Cool Kids

"You're going to lead us," they whispered like ash in the wind.
"You're going to follow through and inspire"

I continued to lie in that puddle of mud and discreet secrets pulling me in deeper. I wasn't sinking, but I was hoping that I could drown in this subtle problem of the instant.

I'd fallen into the same traps and repetitions and they had finally caught me in a snare of my own words.

Sentences unfinished.
Fragments left behind the grenades of my mental inhibitions.

Churning out a system based on a flowchart of instability.

So predictable.

Fingerless gloves belonging in this melancholy scene.

You're going to lead us.
You're going to pull us through.
Hyah!