Sifting and weaving my way through
Husbands and wives,
Babies and mothers,
And off the clock whores
Dressed to impress out in the daylight
Of this organic cesspool.
I try to feel normal,
Keeping my shell intact and
My mask from bleeding off.
Skimming and hustling within
In a world of desperate normalcy,
My insides are screaming.
What is “normal” anyways?
A politicians word living a lie,
Strangled by his own noose,
While talking shit towards a blinded,
Where the weight of a feather
Can feel like the world teeter – tottering
On its pattened leather.
Blurring the lines between heaven and hell.
In the end, as I begin falling deeper
Into the darkended depths
I break a smile.