I'll avoid you all for as long as possible.

We ran

Brick by falling brick we cry

stack them over up the sky

Sticks and stones and dirtied nails

tie our rope around the sails. 

Wave by roaring wave we scream

the storm is loud, the storm is keen

On our heels and on our backs

knives in tow we pull the slack.

Boat by crashing boat we pass

to the harbour from our past

Grab the sailors grab the dock

tie the boat and calm the flock. 

Face by ashen face we walk

holding close our hearts in shock

The city's ghost is by our side

creeping up our backs, we hide.

Save the children save our lambs

lock the door, can you still stand?

Faded hands are banging loud

this door shakes before the crowd. 

Fear and icy chills are we

hiding under dusty streets

How are we to sleep tonight?

How are we...to stay alive?

Hell's front road, KEEP GOING.

"Weclome," the sign reads in thick, black lettering. Your mother always said hell would welcome you brightly, but perhaps, you think, she meant bold.

Alone on the frosted bench, 

in the middle of winter's cold.

"I wonder when the end will come?

-what time is it, Mr.Wolf?"

Exhaust the system, smoke out the demons.

Love

Buy a little love,
little love,
little love.
Buy a little love
that's what it's worth.

To age is to live

We age and,
with age comes knowledge.
And with knowledge comes
certainty.
But with certainty,
you find questions.
And with questions comes
fear, with which comes
panic and anxiety and
eventually
exhaustion.
Once exhaustion ends
you realize the panic wasn't worth
anything, and the anxiety was simply
the moment suspended
from here to there.
And the fear was silly because
your questions didn't need answers,
the un-knowable will always exist.
You realize
the questions you had
were found when you knew everything
you thought there was to know.
And as such,
as you age, you realize every moment farther old,
just how little you know, and just how little
you are.

Fuck it

When you say "fuck everything", claiming to be independent, remember that in your words, independence is nothing if not solitude. It's pushing everyone else away, laughing at emotions and love. It's that moment when you're drunk on the curb, sat down because you can't stand anymore. When someone who cares about you tries to take you home, and you tell them just how much you care about them. They say, "You can't just hate everything. At some point, life will find you. You know, those people who are actually living? Feeling and smiling and shit?" They leave. You laugh. Say to the wind, "Life is for the living, you said that. I'm just waiting for death. He'll find me, until then I don't really care what happens. I'd rather sleep through it, but for some fucking reason, I wake every fucking morning."
Not even. Upset, the wrong words fell, you lean against the metal poll and let the coolness calm your fever.
Independence is loneliness, but you actually don't mind. It's not that you'll take care of yourself; you don't need care. You're not breakable; there's nothing to break. When they tell you they'll break your heart, you smirk and wonder, "What heart?"
People live their lives with such competence and dedication. You couldn't give a single fuck. You float right through and laugh when shit happens, because what matter is it to you?
Fuck everything. Honestly.

Update

Could it be a...

Thoughts captivated by that which scares you the most.

Explore

How can you not wonder?

There's everything out there, waiting. Everything and more. 

Um...stable.

These words aren't solid enough.
Unstable realities send us spiralling down,
and that'll be it if we're not careful.

Little littles

You plan to lead an average life, but we plan to stop you.

Happiness and education and jobs and your every everything? We laugh.

You just wait. We're ready when you are, dear.

When the gun sounds, you better run. We'll be on your heals when the gun sounds, love.