Frida Kahlo
(via jamesandrewcrosby)
Source: voragi-ne
would you call me crazy
if i told you
i transcribed
each of your thoughts
to my heart-
just to spend
the nights alone
pursing the answers
to quench your fears?
are we,
with all our blessed mistakes
the representatives of this gaunt generation?
the interviewees
in a satirical comedy.
question time on the 1% club.
where haggard eyes
lay blame on the infected adolescent,
rampaging dreary, dawn streets
with riotous yells and drunken antics.
and so look to us for solutions,
the 1%ers,
the broken mentalities to the moulded etiquettes of everyday britain.
the guilt-ridden question of why?
repetitive and solemn.
why do we do it to ourselves?
why do we do it to them?
we,
the unsuspecting counsellors
to a generation of debauchery.
do they not see,
we’re no more the voice of the defiant minds breaking banality,
than they are the soldiers defending the norm?
we are all just sheep.
a mass movement under the critical eye,
the self conscious plea to unite,
the dangerous intoxication that is peer pressure.
we do,
because it is done.
nothing more… nothing less
we drink because it is the norm,
the one talentless skill acquirable to move with the mass,
to bond with the mutinous,
to join forces in the marching body.
we all fall on sharpened blades of self-esteem.
but as one,
we support each other.
we bond through the liquid poison degrading our souls.
and we fucking love it.
the one legitimate vice,
where we can escape the monotonous norm
revolving the daily cycle of the seniority.
your daily cycle,
of pressurized stress
plaguing your health.
ironic really.
we destroy our well being through frantic binges.
you destroy yours on the daily commute in stuffy trams,
the frenzied blood bath in the fight for money.
the result of a lifetime of gluttony;
junk food, dirty cash,
and the catalyst of a worked up pressure to heap the millions.
why do you do it?
because it is the norm.
you do,
because it is done.
nothing more, nothing less.
we’re all just victims to each other.
fatalities lost in the search for wealth,
casualties to the liquid poison tempting the youth.
we’re all just victims to each other.
self-conscious souls who just want to fit in with the norm.
here’s to the 1% club
the freedom fighters of thought.
it was always you
though i acted all bravado
flirted with the thoughts of powdered girls
fed off their childish giggles
and the flutter of fake lashes
it was always you
who held my heart…
but once more
the hourglass slowly dribbles it’s sand
and time claims another foolish victim.
i’ve lost you to another
a better man
no doubt
but i still long,
long for those small hands to live in mine
long for you to lie between the wings of my shoulder blades asleep
long for you to look me in the eyes and whisper the words ‘i love you’
it was always you
it’s still you
and maybe one day
we’ll fall into the subconscious refuge of slumber
curled as one
beneath my cold sheets warming to your touch.
