We live in the nth generation
The watered down, weakened, husk of a generation
Back when darkness was on the face of the deep
Colors were brighter, more alive
Blood spoke wet and red rubies to the air
Grass glowed green emeralds in the sun

Today we look in awe at colored and cut glass
Like the natives we trade our potential for baubles
While demons grow fat and full of beauty, sucking the marrow from its bones
There are not enough energy drinks
Or car commercials that bring families together
To rinse the grey out of our lives

No amount of fabric softener will make those clothes hurt the chubby girl less
No amount of rogain will restore the hope in the man who once thought looks werent everything
We keep buying into program, filling our homes with calculated obsolescence
Our lives are colanders and we keep looking to the image of a cup flowing over
like that is how its supposed to be

The image is a lie, constructed on contract by an ad agency
The cup is a prop, there is a cork in the bottom, and collagen, and botox in it’s rim
Keeping it full and motionless like the moon when it stops to look down
To see if anyone is looking up at how good a job it is doing
Reflecting light from the opposite side of the world, turning its grey dust white
Preaching a message of being full where being full of nothing is still being full
And if we can let go, let the hot coals of anger drop from our hands
And with their dying breath whisper secrets into the dirt and not our flesh
we can open our arms without fear of dropping what we are already losing
And wrap them around another who knows and feels the same as we
And for once in our lives
Not be alone