Sunday, December 13, 2009


small talk
killing our society
easing the pain
silence is the cure
the latest gossip
and the best of zagat
who wore it best

the words that close the gap on our ever shrinking brains
the lowest form of entertainment
we choose the filth
none of us our innocent
especially the children
stop the reproduction

I feel something happening to me
a wave of darkness
like ink dripping and slipping
in my head and down my spine
i no longer know how to stop my metamorphosis

thought i wanted to find love
now i search for solitude
i know my need for love was selfish
only to patch up my empty hole
dying to fill it
dying to die

this feeling is my disease
killing me from within
filling the corners of my brain
whispers softly
shut down

run away from normal
burn the television
burn the newspaper
burn the cellphone
break down all life's comforts

and start from the start
start from black
from the hole
dig under you reality
and shake the disease

refuse the small talk
and cure my self with silence

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