Holy Day

Holy days of reckoning
Maudlin inertia, and tears streaming down my rugged face

You stare unknowingly, judgementally
Mental(ly)

Ragged(ly) and rugged(ly,) pieces come through
As your experience dictates the crevices and paths skin traverses, and traipses through

Traipsing and traversing, I always find good alliterations
Don't I? Don't I? If you start thinking about the way you do it, too, I do

All of it, all of it it's all of you, you there
And you think "Why couldn't I have written it, if I'd thought it (so many times) before?"

So many times before

But this is not a matter of precedence
It's unprecedented and inconsequential

Like the first fish out of the ocean
That were just running away from something

But they ended up not knowing how to swim

And I could have used beautiful Latin words like
Non sequitur, which would be non-applicable and such like

But I'm too angry to explain why I shouldn't
And you should know better, shouldn't you?

Like making a proposition and ending it with a query?
And query's just a posh way of saying question, darling fucker

So many times before
(I'm repeating this here because it mysteriously suits it, like a broken chorus)

Breaking that (fourth) wall
I've nary broken a wall, let alone a hard one

Oh, you meant that metaphorically

Walls are tough
I feign I'm tough -- but I don't really think I'm wall tough

I'm a sweet spot for traipsing and traversing, wee bit of trampling
We're all soft and broken and on the wrong side of evolution

It's unholy, it's involution, baby