Babies born from battered wombs. People becoming animals and biting the hands that feed them. We long for sleep, watching the sunset becoming the sunrise. Everything is transforming into a giant cluster-f*ck.
Our choices never belonged to us.
Surrounded by people who prove themselves unreliable. Time away from the madness no longer helps; vacations are just band-aids treating a knife wound. Despite the personal anguish, people are dying violently. Journalists are reporting from the scripted agendas, generating debate and factions both political and religious.
The world never loved us.
The ones we trust are the ones who lie. Animosity so thick that it chokes the sky. We breathe the toxins for our salvation, falling on the dirt, unable to bury the torture within our souls.
Write Now and Later 