the anticlimax

Work work
Work work stop shop

Autopilot

Funscreen 50 bpf
Tone~deaf

Assembly line and
Automatic kisses

Not so nourishing trip

It's always been a safe space

where simulations thrive.

It's the comfort cabin

where the smiles.

Keeping things upside down

like a rollercoaster,

I found a coherent spot 

regardless the nonsense.

"Fake it 'till you make it"

was naïve enough

for roasted, tender lamb

No one ate.

Cause there's no such fresh start

And this keeps on repeating

Finding it raw to describe the feeling

that I've never really had the chance

My offerings were on purpose

Having given my all away

I made the proving effort

But then woke up

in the chewed

and died hard

~

How could I possibly know?

How could someone ever expect

Such good manners

Such perks?

Your hideous intentions

Weren't those of a desk clerk

And tongue in slow-mo

And bloodshot eyed

Guess I'll simply watch and learn

That you're the best type

of a cocky wanky jerk

~