Day 1283

…It can’t just be depression

Making everything look like shit

A bloated punk rocker in a Christmas sweater

Out of breath and bloated

Panting away his last dregs of respect in a strobe wash

It can’t just be the cynicism

Tinting every overindulgent smash shot

Every panoramic frame

Rendered in flawless detail

(The best looking video game with the worst controls)

So desperate are we to be remembered

We’ll swear we liked everything we were forced to experience

So scared are we of being forgotten

Anything created is legend

When was the last time you were proud of a question?

When did you last feel safe alone?

It can’t just be the depression

Liking every filtered smirk

Every contrived tilt of the head

It’s not that it’s been done before

Nor that it was better

But it feels like those aching intentions

of memory

Has given way to desperate

legacy

And all we had we wasted…

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