Street Sects, In Defense of Resentment


Fear of money
Fear of love
Fear of being undone
Fear of conscience
Fear of law
Fear of living too long

Each time you reach out
I find it strange
Seems like a waste of goodwill

You’ve shared your dreams
Recounted “wins”
I can’t relate to those things

I wouldn’t last a night
In your head
With your thoughts
Of right and wrong
Good and bad

You have nothing of worth to offer me
Nothing but guilt and luxury
Underneath your disguise
The dream is suffering

I’m at home with my faults
I don’t need your friendship
Your judgement
Your passive aggressive concern

I’ve got fear
I’ve got hate
I’ve got the things you can’t chase out
Hiding in plain sight
And you’ve settled down now
To die in the same cage you were born and raised in

Bury the sentiment
Bury the good intent
I don’t deserve your affection

Piss on your selflessness
Fuck your forgiveness
I don’t believe in redemption

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