(no subject)
these dreams are very strange.
they remind me of the past and of the future.
things hurt everywhere and i'm entirely confused
giving and not getting
like the cashier who almost shorted me $10
it doesn't even feel bad until someone else points it out
why is everybody so selfish? and why does that make me selfish, too?
in my own way, i'm worse than they are
that's what you built me to be, though
pretty little porcelain robot
only there for show
like that soggy lettuce on the side of the plate
that you can't really eat
the plastic fruits on your dining room table
the peaches that feel fuzzy, even
they're nice to touch
but they serve no real purpose
and that's how it is, you know
when it's all too good to be true
all smoke and mirrors
all fuzzy peaches
all soggy lettuce
all of your pottery barn
accent balls
made of fake yarn
unraveled, deconstructed, don't look so beautiful anymore
it's all in the presentation
because once you peel back the layers
you find that there's never anything underneath
what happened to the organs
the ripe red blood?
we're all just a hollow shell,
a cocoon
with no butterfly inside
we've just been waiting years and years to metamorphose
only to find that we were never even a fucking caterpillar to begin with.
they remind me of the past and of the future.
things hurt everywhere and i'm entirely confused
giving and not getting
like the cashier who almost shorted me $10
it doesn't even feel bad until someone else points it out
why is everybody so selfish? and why does that make me selfish, too?
in my own way, i'm worse than they are
that's what you built me to be, though
pretty little porcelain robot
only there for show
like that soggy lettuce on the side of the plate
that you can't really eat
the plastic fruits on your dining room table
the peaches that feel fuzzy, even
they're nice to touch
but they serve no real purpose
and that's how it is, you know
when it's all too good to be true
all smoke and mirrors
all fuzzy peaches
all soggy lettuce
all of your pottery barn
accent balls
made of fake yarn
unraveled, deconstructed, don't look so beautiful anymore
it's all in the presentation
because once you peel back the layers
you find that there's never anything underneath
what happened to the organs
the ripe red blood?
we're all just a hollow shell,
a cocoon
with no butterfly inside
we've just been waiting years and years to metamorphose
only to find that we were never even a fucking caterpillar to begin with.