Let’s get high on nostalgia
and drunk on the way things ought to be
then smash our bottles of broken dreams
then stab at others who dare intrude
on my intoxication of sad distraction.
Slice and gash with tongues of sharp glass
and turn this bar of Living For Yesterday
Into a collection of knife fights over taste.
We came for the echo chamber.
We came for unity.
THEY came for the same.
But the chamber of their hearts echoes to a different tune.
Let us divide each other with punches thrown by angry thumbs
So that we may reclaim our right
to live in