Complicated beings build
a simplified Existence.
Smothering kindness and
forever holding our breath
for the next knife in our backs.
In all that brittle baring
we bare our teeth and Burn our hair.
Woman, man and the Other stand
in pretend unity to preach their cause
to empty listeners with texting hands.
Inside we are creative, but outside:
facades are all we paint, post and preen and
Primal are our fears.
Social is our angst and our anguish. We
say nothing when we Know,
and we speak when we know Nothing.
We are clueless and divided, and in the fingers of our Future
we are dust and passing remarks.
Push up glasses and drain them empty because
in the universal scope, we are unwritten.