Reads like a chorus to me, the numb generation anthem line, and the whole piece has the build of a Linkin Park track: the verse, then the sink slow part, then the hallelujah at the end. It would sit fine on a playlist right after Numb.
a new kind of religion
Thought
Thought
Reads like a chorus to me, the numb generation anthem line, and the whole piece has the build of a Linkin Park track: the verse, then the sink slow part, then the hallelujah at the end. It would sit fine on a playlist right after Numb.
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Maybe it’s just depression
or the constant pressure
of being something that I am not supposed to be
unhappy, bored and suicidal
let’s live in denial
becoming so unsocial
the anthem of a numb generation
Static in my bloodstream
white noise inside my daydreams
another masked confession hidden underneath my skin
I wear a smile like a weapon
self-destruction dressed in heaven
while every mirror in this room keeps swallowing me in
We sink slow
like shadows in the floodlights
cold souls dancing with the parasites
tell me, are we alive
or just sedated enough to survive?
Every conversation feels synthetic
love reduced to something anesthetic
touch me like a ghost that disappeared before the dawn
I keep chewing on the silence
praying beauty kills the violence
but all the prayers collapse before they ever carry on
So pull me under softly
let the void absorb me
if I fade away tonight, don’t pretend you never knew
we are children of the aftermath
broken veins and shattered glass
singing hallelujah while the world burns blue
Thoughts
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Reads like a chorus to me, the numb generation anthem line, and the whole piece has the build of a Linkin Park track: the verse, then the sink slow part, then the hallelujah at the end. It would sit fine on a playlist right after Numb.
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World burns blue. Oof 😶
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I would have skipped the ghost-before-dawn line and I stopped dead on the mirrors swallowing you in. My guess is the mirror line came first and the rest got built round it.
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Children of the aftermath, love that one. If a band put it on a shirt I would buy the shirt.
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The alive-or-sedated question is one I have heard put at kitchen tables by men who would never call it a poem. My guess is this is the third or fourth of these you have written and the earlier ones were angrier.
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Everybody knows that smile on someone else and nobody admits to wearing it. The smile as a weapon is the line I keep coming back to.
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Denial as a place to go and live is the line I stopped on. Was the title there from the start?
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Not loud, not dramatic, just a hum you stop noticing until somebody names it: that is the static in the bloodstream and the white noise in the daydreams for me. Then the smile worn like a weapon, which reads as the most tired line in the whole thing, more than the void bit. I read it at half three and it fit the hour.
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It’s a poem
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Maybe it’s just depression