Gasping for Air, A short poem

Gasp for Air

By: Robert Orr

Let these halls ring with the sound of your annoying laughter.

Let everyone know just how fucking funny whatever that funny thing somebody just said was.

Let me know when you become something less than a social demi-god and something more than a nuisance.

Let your stupid voice continue to speak.

Let me go.

This place is absolute murder.

These people are so fucking fake.

This scene is as dead as the doornail in your senior class’s coffin.

This mask on my face that restrains my discontent is being chipped away by your nonchalant baby prattling like a machine gun that fires diamonds covered in shit so fast that you have to

-gasp-

For air between every single fucking meaningless sentence.

Heart this, lol at that, he said, she said, I was like, they were all, send a text message full of emoticons while talking to your fellow acolytes in trendiness about whatever stupid superficial bullshit happened between you and your significant other and

-gasp-

Before you speak another word.

Tell me what your favorite bands are.

Now tell me when was the last time you like a band before checking someone’s re-blog?

Tell me about your clothes, and how non-conformist you are.

Tell me about the cigarettes you smoke, and how cool it is to smoke those particular kinds of cigarettes.

Tell me about your friends, because that is what you call them.

Tell me about your bright future … oh yeah … that’s right.

Tell me about how you are so attention hungry that your entire lifestyle and existence has become a massive black hole that continuously sucks up trivial bullshit but never gets full and how you are always

-gasping-

For air.

And receiving none.