I fucking hate it all.
I hate needing it.
Having to encircle the moment
where I finally stoop back
down to the desert of tomorrow
and eat my own faith alive,
some kind of vulture for
my own survival, my own future.

I love that I can leave it all.
I want to bring them all with me
but they’ve always known that vulture kid,
and I’m heading somewhere new.

I’m heading to you, kid.