calebgoldenstein
To market, to sell, to bring about an end.
To create a place that exists without friends.
Behold, behold, this existential chasm,
Prone to fear and hate, and banker's orgasms.
Long periods stretch across a bleak landscape. Where has my time gone?
There are no answers, and I am forced to cover my soul, cover my being.
I have nothing left over these weeks, and I struggle against overwhelming tides.