To count sheep or the cracks in the sidewalk, to surrender to habit in order to feel we've settled accounts with ourselves and with God-why not? It can happen that the most wretched prayer is lifted up by love, to the confusion of all hypocrites. But the person who wants to hold back, to keep everything locked up, secretly refusing the flux of time and death, is only pretending. It's the same as multiplying formal gestures of courtesy when love departs. Politeness is the surest way of keeping one's distance.
-Jean Sulivan
The new normal
With the new normal
our want of security
we walk round and round our sore
so that all else is prattle
words passing by
never through
Ours are shallow reckonings
weak and slaughtered
enough to humor
pretend we're alive
grasping for a cord of life
We induce suiscide
leaping past pain
the splattering of blood
the flooding of tears
So, round and round we walk
with the cool hatred of cowards
our scabs hardening into rock
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