I don't like how we talk,
Endlessly trying to cover up the silences.
But the silent ones are never caught, never punished.
We smother them anyways,
We smother them with empty words that don't mean a thing to anyone.
We try and pass off as being deep and dark,
But end up hopelessly lost in a whirlwind of confusion.
Confusion that leads to disillusion that leads to uncertified death.
Death -- Dark and deep like how we want to be.
I don't like how we talk.
 
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