Emo Inconsistent

wavering always

wondering

wandering

seeking the wrong people

becoming self defeating

with the wrong questions

she is her own plague

in a speculating

infernal insecurity

camping 'dry' on some imaginary

high ground

but soaking wet

yet still believing

in that 'high ground'

a camp full of static idiots

the holy atrophying morons

the others

who lie for true to her everyday

yet still she's wavering

speculating

that deep inside

she was recruited

as all that truth is just a different way to lie

like the others

no longer moving

but rotting

in palliative care

waiting to die on a 'high ground'

secretly petrified

until the very end