This car dealership coffee and styrofoam cup,

Makes me wonder how I'd live,

If I were to surrender or run,

Everything seems so paper here,

So two-dimensional so thin,

Suburban castles could be blown away by reality's wind,

I wonder how the people still exist,

Cardboard prop ups,

Nobody knowing the world or love,

Just what propaganda has told us,

Nobody realizes we are not alive,

Slaves to the modern idea of conformity and strife,

People claim find god in glory and wealth,

Along with a prescribed happiness,

But god drifts in the air and in the sea,

She is the desert breeze and the rain of spring,

Wars rage over unknowns rulers' precedence,

Rather than breathing the carcinogen air of humanity's present,

And I just watch,

Drifting to come close to living,

Loathing to come close to loving,

Mentally deteriorating to come close to reality,

Dying to come close to faith,

Dying to come close to an escape,

Dying to come close to clarity,

To life,

If I were submerged in the dirt,

I'd be held by god,

And embraced by Allah,

Consumed by all deities who are one in the same,

And loved for what stories my disintegrating bones told,

Rather than my fresh faced human skin,

Rather than my cardboard exterior,

Rather than my papered mask,

I'd find life by dying,

And faith by death,

 

So ask me once more why I smile through my cancer bearing cigarette,

In this paper mansion of a business,

Ask me why I let the caffeine soak through my veins and over stimulate my heart,

From this industrialized styrofoam cup,

Though you already know,

I'm only doing what we all are,

Trying to find out how to exist,

Only I've realized it's not about life,

It's about the exit.