Dang, I need some prozac.
these are the things I cannot abide,
liars and cheaters and waiting in line
a cold stone floor and a fan too loud
bulbs burnt out and a room without sound
these are the things I cannot abide,
those without dreams living fake lives
a car out of gas a bill thats unpaid
freaks, vagrants, fuckers and strays
these are the things I cannot abide,
loving too little and a life out of sync
saying youre sorry, not what you really think
faceless victims, fairy tales, secrets and kink
these are the things I cannot abide,
that man is an island crafted of bones and nested in skin
a harsh outer shell incapable of taking another in
hidden roots under fallen leaves
separated by a sour ocean of sensations and stimuli
billions of people crammed together
yet left apart,
drifting into a void without echo.
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When you're low it's either wave that flag or stand there empty-handed. -- Achewood
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