fake spilled floor silenced

cadence teardrop senseless sentence.

and then it all blows up.

the figurines, the sex, careless flesh all around mixed with alcohol

everyone drowning private issues in public disgrace.

paying for someone else to lick their tasteless wounds,

suffocate them, tie them, smell them, curse them.

and when the rituals are finnally over,

return to their homes, where they choose to hide.

just let everything out, and then slit your innner thoughts.

just bottle up your demands and differences.

just let it creep up no more,

and sleep for a while.