The magnolia sinister

Sometime I think the city is an afterlife
Gas station temples for carbon gods
The prophet wrapped in styrafoam
Sees the degeneration and mastication of the masses
Chewed by expensive teeth
And does nothing
Godliness gets in the way
I could do something but don’t
Mortality gets in the way

Flowing through the streets like salmon with wallets
Filling the void with things

I met a girl who smelled of smoke
Yet never burned, only smoldered
She writes her own name over and over again so she won’t forget it

I climbed the highest hill hoping to tip the scales
To bellow the question the valley below
WHO HAVE WE BECOME?
Words remain unheard and insubstantial yet bright as fire
A liar can only deny for so long
And continue to say the bomb is holy
While the magnolia is sinister
I’m done lying to the mirror
Sitting up at dawn listening to the radio
The same song sung in repetition
Slowly murdering myself with self pity
Hypnosis and narcosis for breakfast
The heat is gone
I stomped the all permeating sigh
I burst through the door yelling gotcha gotcha gotcha
Slow to realize and sad to admit
Everyone but me
Already knew the secret before
I was waiting on the stairs outside the door
This whole time
Unknowing
You and I were floating in an afterlife
This whole time