Your friendship made neoliberal platforms bearable. That's why I spent all night drifting in to your new monologue. Who cares if the words are legible, when the kitchen light is sun-like and dependable?
I can't help believing there are harder times ahead. A paladin wears chain mail, but he is not invincible. Lately hungry ghosts have operated in our stead. When I said "Love me," you said, "Don't talk, you fucking imbecile."
Your opponent is already wounded. Not to mention he's a fallen comrade. But I intend to fall on my own sword, not to be a stabbing victim.
All things born with two legs are destined to fall over. Then they get entangled one melancholic September. When you look in my eyes, man, you surely see an "other." They say the first enemies were brothers.
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