We are existing.
There is nothing to talk about anymore.
There is nothing left to say that is worth saying,
that will not fall to the ground,
flacid and limp like the hungry flesh
that once thought that it was satisfied.
And now thinking that it should keep pushing for more.
So halfway hanging, down the hallways of hummed space,
The ticking clock measuring each mute second of our pacing.
Let's just go.