I'm wide open yet my shell is rock solid.
I lay here like a rock that has magically thawed without freezing.
The emotion that was a central characteristic
Now seems like a virtue that I wish to obtain, not maintain.

Places and faces seem the same if not for a spurt of delight and enthusiasm.
Hopping around happily doing work meticulously, always being merry
Like a fucking crack whore who's managed to retain manners whilst high
Yet never managing to crack sputter in any way.

Once where a fire burned, now a cold, damp furnace
A tree for life that forgot it had to sprout leaves when summer came
The molten stomach rumbling of a volcano that's forgotten to vomit
Causing it to shit into itself in shame and disgust.

Yet these things people still look at happily and in awe
Thinking if they were such a thing what would they feel like?
A friend who can neither agree nor disagree with you
but will tell you whatever you want to hear whenever you ask it something.

Instead of a spotlight, a movie fragment in widescreen
A wheel of life that has no coherent meaning.
A job we go to not for self enjoyment but for self pity
These are the things we enjoy.
The self hate, the self chaos, the self incomprehension and bigotry.

Without these things we are not joyous, we are not sad, we are not neutral.
Without something worth fighting for or dying for or both
What do we have to live for?

When someone truly believes in that
What do you tell them when they have nothing that they can fight for?