paper stacks and cocaine lines

on the crest of a wave that roams and fades,
the children crack smiles to let us know that nothing lasts forever.

to be one of us, to have this disease, to hold it inside,
to be real and bleed,
we blend into the world as the days go counting by.

they say we're disinigrated bits of living matter,
but i don't know if that's for certain.

my eyes are globes in constant motion
with blood vessels roads are always broken.

i don't think that anyone can navigate,
let alone come home alive.

let us bathe in the sea of dreams that we don't have,
and we will was away the rest of our organics.

they treat us like we're not human,
we're all just damaged goods.