This Is Not Art

Poetry to Split the Social Order

Monday, February 21, 2011

Alienation

Sitting in a bright room with lights strung all over like nooses on our birthday
Everyone singing as their friend, sips his way into a coma
Everyone yelling as they shed petals onto the floor
Everyone withering into themselves
"Ive already been dead
and I've come back
its doesnt matter anymore
none of this"

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