Massacred dreams,
bite into the supple flesh
of every young brain-
did I mean body?
I wonder how many
people I can fit into my mouth-
swallow up their thoughts and
worship worship
worship
them.
A bill of rights
on my tongue
but lock me away,
I am only the product of you
I am only the product of my society
I am the product of
all this fucking noise
pollution.
Source deadbooks
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