so fluent in the language
that negates incentive
but broadens the selection
of meanings,
all soo many tedious
feelings like battlescars
that rush to the surface.
and this may be the purpose 
they all told you about,
yet i can't stand how 
bland the words become.
treasures stick out of the sand,
but your hands only bleed
when you place them in.
the right behavours spawn
the wrong intentions,
feels like your inventing
reasons to force your smiles.
and who is it that's on trial?
the last best bet to make
would be one that puts your
reputation at stake.
flavours blend to
mix the end in indifference.