Casually accepting
we're living in a dystopian nightmare.
We've been training for this moment.

Years of all this
chaos and fuckery has aged us.

When will we wake up
from this fever dream?
And at what cost?

There's no coming back from the cliff we've been pushed off.

We are the hive mind.
A collective of self depravity.
Wrapped up in Pandora's box.

Like ants climbing into their hill
Descending deeper and deeper into the hell they've created.

Are we any different?

Compliments are just friendly reminders; that the mirror and our thought are both compulsive liars.
Sent from the depths of hell
to drag us back down with them.
We're smiling through our tears.
But for what?
At least we're okay, right?
I don't know who's real anymore.

I've dined with snakes of all kinds.
Your cobra doesn't scare me.
Fangs and all.
My stance unshaken.
By your taunts, your threats.
A snapshot of your desperation.
A glimpse at your quest for control.
The epitome of lost causes.
Failure of the heart to produce an ounce of love.
There's no saving you.
And I'm sorry.

Freedom is just a word most of us can't afford. .
It really only happens when you have a fat stack.
These days freedom is taking whatever you want and ******* over, everybody else.
In whatever position you'd like.

The only winner in life's trials are the ones brave enough to shout their dissent.

Control is merely a word to be taken in context.
If you could smell the desperation in the air.
You'd notice pleasant notes of petchulance and defeat.
Guising as false bravado our enemy lies like a motorboat whipping through the swamp he never drained.

Love's just the lightening in a bottle.
The wonderful electricity that powers our beating hearts.

Life could be so wonderful, if you'd quit breaking my circuit.