Crumbling tastebuds

by annex50

must be said,

that I’ve grown so tired of hearing what I hear.

I want you to twist words

and then talk to me.

I want to do that too.

It’s hard.

You hear so much;

you Really do hear.

It’s too much.

It’s almost like we listen to others through transcription,

then listen to others through vocalization,

then listen to others through authorization,

then listen to to others’

‘ ‘,

B.

S

period

U

R

& (y).

Listen,

*poof*

I say,

to ourselves,

hold your chin up

and be

high,

then stop

listeningAND

Cast a thread,

then wait,

then wait,

then feel a hit, you know the rest,

it’s finding you,

as you were taught.

Unique,

then stopping reason and

recognizing

the pattern

no more expectations

for it only holds you

in astateofmindbutyouneeditandiwanttopress

space

S P A C E

does it matter?

– the essence

of (th)

dis

belief

I think

for you; you

think

what is the matter

? with me

is the question

that marks

US

for it is not

I…

It’s

got to be sustained.

The artist,

the writer

, the think

er, the dream

er, the fu

ture

in your own head.

Bigger

stronger,

the Queen

bee

cause

the next human that you refute

can stop

the thoughts

that you have.

You’ve not discovered anything,

you’ve always been

a toy in a story that tells

stories

_

you’ve never been empowered

you’re not affiliated

with anything

you are that one

thing

that

FOES

it all.

You know better.

You are

and

you

are small

to_

0

me,

so I say

the wind is blowing;

I feel so different;

I Feel

so empowered

by the daze

gone by

that it does not stop

because it tells

Me

(that you

tell me)

Nothing

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