we have to do something, but it starts only here.
massive reflections, inwardly torn and heeding the feed to pretend.
salt-wound perseverance to escape to the back where the drugs are free and the shame lacks the bearing of light.
who cares what people say? just do what you need.
but then comes the questions; to starve or stave.
to balance the walk of desire, forsaken or
gurgle the fat, swallowed whole.
to take in the gifts, destroy the function,
and trash our defeat, ignoring the soul
of the naked and white.
with barely a sun,
eyes knowing too much.