son of cain

[dull boy]

Originally Posted by dead man

relatives wait. for something to develop in wake
cellophane and yellow tape protecting us vaguely, from
whatever we make intelligent then press into spaces
evangelical praise our matron saint rebellious phase, hail ye

We’re carved from constant bombardment of content. We’re targets
regardless of harm that it causes. Discarded. Just carbon. Despondent.
The martyrs. Marching in concert. Feet to the fire. Armed with the knowledge
of the fall we’re embarking. It’s part of the process. How long is this star lit?