I’ve got a problem with the way you see, your eyes are always trying to take something from me. I’ve got a problem with the way you hear, only listening to the bankers & the bombardiers.
But for now, I’m not invisible.
Your stare, the weight of your glare, pinned & mounted, but you best beware.
I’ve got a problem with the way you think. Respect could keep us afloat, but you would rather sink.
I’ve got a problem with the way you act. Run your mouth, confuse opinion with fact.
And if I don’t make any sense to you, well, I never really wanted to.
Through fictions fed & feelings misconstrued, at least I know my aim is true.
I learned to crawl, to stand, to fall. I even learned to scale those fucking walls. I learned to scream, to swim upstream, and to subsist on optimism & caffeine.
Ice will melt. Seas will rise. Iron will rust. Fire will fall from the skies. Hearts will break, but ours will mend, once we’ve spent all that we can spend. We will turn against ourselves, we will feel fear. We are a moment, and we will disappear.
all rights reserved
feeds for ,