A punch in the nose...a smack in the face...some cyanide in your cereal might be your saving grace. The snow on the television is breaking up the rainbow. Bleach and Ajax with a dash of vinegar might make you dance like a star. To yourself...who are we to judge...yet you turn your head and look to the crowd with pleading eyes...willing to pay someone else to fix themselves...willing to bribe the dog with peanut butter to fuck the neighbor's cousin in her sleep to make sure no one knows that it's really you that's fucked up...not us. We shit perfection and you smear it over yourself trying to catch up but you only smell worse.
There's a staircase...2 flights should be enough...if you let me trip you I promise I'll feel better. A window perhaps...I'll move the car so you don't scratch it....give me a minute to turn up this song...or should I tape your mouth shut...no one cares about your screams.
Oh look...a squirrel.
