no one wants to get to know me these days— all they want is hard and fast.

the things i haven’t felt yet are already in the past.

would i have found god without the christian memes facebook page, or

is my faith exclusively reliant on the technological age?

i want salvation just as much as the next man, but i can’t

focus on myself or god with my six second attention span.

 

censor this, top fifty hits:

in the modern age she’s no longer a witch

but a woman opens her mouth and she’s suddenly a crazy bitch.

whatever, i’m sure you men have ideas about what to fill that mouth with.

chanting ‘no means yes’

at yale campus, but— ok ok— rape culture is a 'myth'.

 

after all these years, my morality’s been abraded

i love the way she feels, and i don’t know how to hate it.

she isn’t pretty because she can’t afford a spray tan

(melanin’s only attractive when it’s not a black man.)

Things that are beautiful hardly last forever,

on the internet, there’s no point in being anything but suicidal or clever.

 

if you put my feelings to a tune, i could be an instantaneous sensation

but i’d die as quickly as i came; we're the nation of instant gratification.

tell me again to do something with my life instead of

just make art,

and i’ll tell you that i’m not the one who tore the world apart.