what do I do with the rage that festers beneath my fists at the sight of words written by the world. What a wicked weapon the enemy yields... the world wide web...
what do I do with the urgent need for immediate justice that jumps from my skin at the mention of wrong doings...
what do I do with the alarming anxiety that attacks... when small talk sends my heart to my throat because my mind goes so deep so fast, and my mouth has a faulty filter... and I just talk and talk and talk. when all I want to do is shut up because I'm talking about nothing, because I have so much off the wall, deep shit to say and that shit weirds people out. I give up. I want to it's true. But I can't, must B E true.
what then, do we do with this unhealthy hunger for a financial status that lingers forever & always out of reach... why is this paper on a pedestal?
It's like no ones ever made it past the free bread offered before the meal... the small talk and warm rolls with a honey butter spread offer us just enough satisfaction & distraction from the fact that were all S T A R V I N G.
I'm so hungry for change- I refuse to eat any more rolls. My tastebuds are so awake. My stomach is aching. My mouth is watering for a main course...but I can't help but sit here biter in my thoughts like "well that's it, this waiter lost their tip ,worst service ever. " The menu isn't even enticing... I've almost lost my appetite and left the table completely...
