Dripping through the cavities
We see each other; hidden, obscured,
Yet very well aware of the decay.
The picture frame is hanging
Obviously at a slight edge, angled;
Unnerving all observers.
We are literally who people see us;
There are no cracks to cover at all.
The surface is bad enough to explore.
Everyday is a sweat-soaked trauma
Of keeping ourselves together;
We are all in this spiral mess.
The pains are imagined; universal.
Experience is the key to survival;
Understanding what pain actually is.
Different Danny 