I am in a drugstore, 

and I see people in their morning attire, 

still shining shoes, shirts crisp and no cigarette holes. 

They vote, they all eat ice creams and they get back to their places with no liquors in their stomach. 

No chaos…all going in a line, all avoiding potholes…

They make things…and not be able to understand the madness of their construction they preach…they think and then they read books…

There’s knife in their eyes, 

you can’t get pass that…

they can cut you open and make you a dislocated ribcage, even from a distance. 

Hammers and nails…the inferiority of nails…the false romanticisms of nails. 

They can’t stand the isolations of nails…the pointed truths. 

They make the laws for everyone…and they talk about purple individualities. 

The first light of the evening is coming,  

I came to get a cure but these white rabbits never stop to make weird noises, 

the humming of a crowd…

The loneliness among millions. 

I need to get back to my room and get the shades down… 

There’s cold inside my skin…it needs a vacation from humanity.

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Photograph: Google.