like gas tanks to get to our destinations like bank accounts depleting from bills and replenishing from moil like our bodies with stress on the weekdays and relief or excitement on the weekends like our hearts with love in tiny little spaces like bottles of cleaning products under our ugly vanities like barrels of toxic waste dumping into the sea like porch swings on lazy spring afternoons like pews of worshippers at Sunday morning mass like stuffing our bellies with 99 cent hamburgers and draining our ***** down the toilets of the unconcerned like spit suckers at the dentist office like pills of seduction relieving pain like centuries of people and trees exchanging carbon dioxide for oxygen
...and itβs hard enough just to breathe but how lovely is it to prattle and wail through wasted time and non-existence and laugh at our faces hiding behind troubled masks because we donβt care to know who we are or what weβre doing here just keep on filling and refilling our embodiment with a sun patch of numbing resentment
itβs just easier to wisp through the willows than to empirically plod through the bogs of self-reliance.