Why
won’t you just tell me
what you want?
I want to give it,
deliver it,
peacefully and willingly like a lover of your
life style.
We’ll
look all distant like I
didn’t want it to happen.
But i did as
much
as you did.
You fucking son of a bitch.
I feel the push creeping in now
like a bad habit
in the pulse of a new breed.
You want to stop the assimilation
as much as i want to
create uncomfortable commitment.
It’s all focusing on dismal truths
so much i think you love
to see yourself squirm in denial.
what happened to indifference?
you used to be so good
at ignoring the genius of being you.
it’s all up to the pleasing of others
now that you’re all cozy
in the infintile bedroom of conformity.
i wish you were dead like me
so you could feel the poison
leaking in to bedrooms all across America.
