you find yourself pitched
|
drained to a pit of whatever that crushes you usually
|
theres someone up top with what looks like some rope
|
it's not
|
it's just for appearance
|
they'd make it with twine but didn't have time
|
too busy planning their outfits
|
to prove them a hero
|
they hold you down till they break your will
|
everybody is taking pills
|
there's all this pity we give out of sequence
|
let's just have a party
|
it's far more convenient
|
all of the guests have arrived too early
|
there's not enough sympathy to go around
|
i should have had it catered
|
the excuses are stocked
|
the snacks aren't your fault and are certain regardless of what you want to eat
|
take a dip in the pool
|
the sorrows feel fine
|
and besides they'll drown you eventually
|
we'll all have some whine and feel conscious of time
|
existentially
|
and look down our noses at those we find simpler
|
what are we supposed to do
|
until then
|
seriously
|
ugh
|
you put so much effort in forms
|
pitch curves
|
depths
|
and nobody notices
|
and let yourself slip
|
make a mess harm
|
break and suddenly everyone's watching you
|
it's not your fault
|
it's just conditioning
|
we all love a good wreck
|
i know
|
i'll have one... right now
|
how are we supposed to arrive when everyone's already there?
|
how are we supposed to survive if everyone's already dead
|
|
-----------------
|
The Soiree
|
Look What I Did |