False senses of hope,
love, pride, self.
Eyes blind and ignorant
influence, we absorb,
recycle buzz-terms of the uncertain
self-righteous.
We lie in style,
worst-white ones
and we tell them to ourselves.
We look unsatisfied, searching.
We search for hope.
For love too,
reasons to be proud.
We blonde our hair,
gloss-pink our lips
and rum & coke our emptiness
in vain.
We ask questions,
look for scapegoats.
We want: bleached-cotton white teeth,
violet eyes and seedy, passionate lust
like romance fiction.
We stand on soap-boxes,
demand personal melodramas,
compare our bodies to supermodels,
our lives to celebrity.
We model our souls after saints
but we have no piety.
and we think
this is absolutely normal.
|
|
Bookmark/Search this post with:
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
