working a job you hate

we
sat
on
your
couch,
and cried.
literally on each others shoulders.
unverbal
unequivocal
undeniable that the world is a place where you can stand on your feet  for 12 hours and be treated as a robot for your fellow
mans
consumption,
where your mom takes so much lithium she can't keep a job / because if she didn't the voices whisper her wicked things

the world
is
a
fucking
mess.
somehow that is still an elephant in everyone's room
but i find beauty in our caring enough
to
cry,
and begin anew.