cause that thing reminds me of other things
things that pile up
and make me want to take things
that make me forget things
that take things from me
that give them back to me with other things
that i don't want
maybe if this was prose, she wouldn't roll her eyes
it would be prose pupil, the good student
in the schoolmaid outfit
a cheerleading squad
good cheer, good life
i loved living in literary universes
for as long as i could, i could take things
to extend the literary universes
it was life extension, time dilation
social negation, retardation
it was harmless, it was legal
it was something i got away with
i'll escape
i'll prison break every day i get the strength
every day's a holiday
every day the guards catch me - get their sights on me
shoot me, every day it hurts and sort of heals
every day's a scab overlay, i didn't want to think about that thing
so i looked at a painting, imagined it was my skin
implied something about that thing
grief is brief
life's too short for grief
life is all about forgetting to grieve
jugi fruits are tasty, but they leave an aftertaste
that's not so tasty, and they're probably bad for me
but why should i worry? do skin cells worry?
i'm just a cell, baby, that's my theory
just a pity people don't work for me
not anymore, it's not their fault
just the next stage
of ego cancer
it's better not to think about that
let's not