home.

im only in my home.
where each of us thinking its normal to keep sane
getting by being so happy.
can it be for any of words to utter, breath to muster
all for everyday is only thursday.
nightly chilldren,
little do they know the loud music etches us farther only in silence.
the memories come and go, we might never see each other again.
believe it is true there is only this day together in our church.
see, for they haunt and dwell the red light burning in sensation.
watch it all by, its safe inside the air conditioner.
take a sip and let it run dry smoothly on your throat,
the dim lights glare the water dripping on the windshield.
we held him down so righteous we could've still kicked his teeth in;
another story to tell, another corrosive thought
away to feel higher
there exists someone who is lower.
what day is it?
for time is always running so low. so lurid and fast.
the age has come we are all ever so in anger
and wanting it


what the fuck am i talking about?
oh well..