i've reviewed
your toxic resume
and the sweet outer shell
that hides a rusty razorblade.

i've bled with every bite
and gone back for seconds.

we're all the same...
all of us a pound of flesh
for the rotting corpse in the sky.

kept
on this treadmill,
this catwalk
of mindless,
lustrous
distraction...

stiched the fanciest of words, you have,
the finest barbed wire couture.

such beautiful lies
you let us wear,
they tear the flesh
from the truth.

and i am not the fixer of all this,
not the hero.
i am the broken,
the reason
the catalyst
the excuse

it's a shame
to be fond of me
regardless.

NB @ 4:23 PM

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