Every Win I Lose Something

Sitting on the corner of  
fucks this sucks
and I don’t give a fuck avenue  
trying to figure out when it became a game  
to try and score points  
as if we’re in competition  
realising that in a constant struggle for one-upmanship  
we pit ourselves against each-other  
fighting to try and be the one on top  
 
it saddens me  
to put this much effort into sadness  
but I wear the responsibility  
of peeling back layers  
trying to dig into the meat  
until we tore each other apart  
to hold handfuls of entrails  
daring each other to look  
daring each other to look away  
daring each other to feel human  
 
kamikaze pilots hyped up on poetry  
and the stench of our own failures  
we were always bound to  
leave this type of wreckage  
in our wake