Fathers

Tonight, we are not a family
We are not strangers
We are not even human beings
No longer are we connected

We are mere things with open mouths
We do not have feelings nor justifications
Only words

We are the reasons for bursting
The reasons of blazing headaches
The yelling that makes the insignificance of all things visible

Our faces are red and indistinguishable
Our tongues wet and twisted
Our throats that scorch
the paradox of living life truly

The mindlessness is overwhelming
The tired revealing
the mess of our destruction

But it is such a stupid thing,
the person
Welcoming spite, hate
by means of our restlessnes

Who knew we could ever be so virulent
That we could ever be so alike in our heap of disgust
Or so different from the models we've been failing to be

Who knew things could fall apart so quickly

When you really think of all these things
There is no sense

Our beliefs do not matter
In the end we do what we feel
Even if it is nothing at all

Over all things
There is a day
In which that day I fantasize
Of us all being a reminder
In the black moments when we realize
That

We live in time and nothing else
Our music is no longer in rhythm
That we are no longer connected