#rusting anarchy

You preach collapse like it's a religion in basements that smell like mold and cheap beer Milwaukee chewing you up through broken windows while you cosplay revolution in thrift-store black

Every patch on your jacket screams louder than you ever did Every slogan half-read, half-believed stitched together like your sense of purpose fraying at the seams the second real life shows up

You talk about burning systems down but can't even hold a job long enough to understand what you're trying to destroy You romanticize hunger like it's protest like starving is some noble middle finger instead of just…being hungry

There's always a meeting another circle another endless argument about theory no one's lived

You shout "no gods, no masters" then bow to whoever talks the loudest in the room another self-appointed prophet with a zine and a superiority complex

Milwaukee winters don't care about your ideology The cold doesn't debate It doesn't recognize it just freezes same as the looks you give anyone who doesn't fit your curated rage

You eat your own faster than any system ever could call it accountability while sharpening knives made of moral purity and boredom Exile is easier than reflection

And em? I wanted something real Something that bled truth instead of performance But all I found were echoes angry, hollow, rehearsed ricocheting off brick walls and boarded dreams

You don't want to tear it down You want to belong to something breaking