Us

God have mercy on the High Street suckers and their liquid sorrows on tap. Yuppies exhausted from the endless prostitution of anxiety stumble on straight sidewalks, suicide bombers ignorant of their ultimate fate. We're already in Heaven. All our mistakes turned to angels when they inhaled the burning forest. They blessed us with blemishes and tainted minds. We once rode into the sunset with a rusted pick-up truck while the jury gave chase in sports cars. For a split second, life exploded into a mess of contradictions only to reappear in the shape of a flower on the their mass grave. We deserve no less. Life has lost its edge and the ghosts keep spiraling into futility.