Toilet Stall Depictions

There's a movement from all ends where sound comes creeping from beneath our feet, emptying pockets which never had much. You can see what we've written- our bathroom stalls read 'Do something for the hell of it... anything...' The messages are clustered around depictions of stick-figures having gay intercourse. Money, how they lied to us unintentionally, believing just like we do it’s a means to safety or luxury cars with ass-warming seats. But it's just an enhancer of methods for questioning, down with the pill, all cost and no lasting. But what gives weight to the want for lingering? Because beauty was, and thus she is, now and (insert profanity) tomorrows. (Cue the music blasting) Today, though form and seasons change, we have the means for loving. ‘Til the presently mysterious fabric of time collapses, returning to whatever it was that caused it to begin.