Perished tomorrow

Tempted to escape to the bottle; how are we supposed to change our ways when our cassettes still get radio play? There’s a picture we’re meant to understand, there’s a voice we’re meant to hear and there’s mêlées in our hearts. Lost wars cold shoulders cracked voices sad goodbyes and unexpected hello’s shadow a vibrant heartbeat. We’re not meant to understand what life has brought to the table but we’re meant to comprehend what it takes away from us, be it heartbreaks or be it lost love we’ve never experienced. The shallow unconditional love and the artificial content we’ve grown to hear being told; mixed puzzle, meditating on departure as much as we contemplate on the next meal; brought to the struggle to perceive cold shoulders.

We’ve shaking hands while our walls perish right before our eyes, we’re shaking deeper within ourselves; heads high up as if there was a reason to fix the puzzle. We’re reaching to the other side only to hear our voices echo. We’re dancing to no music, dancing to a half empty thirty year old.

When we smile know we’re doing okay, we no longer live for ourselves we are now saving for the next generation because this one has failed us dismally. They told us they loved us but we found out that was just the bible talk, they never meant it.