perfection, in my lap like a low-rent whore
doing its job
my eyes on the dash
can we wrap it up?

i remember a time i was challenged
and driven to insanity
like clockwork, like an ical file
i wanted to die
yet i felt so alive

ye who dismiss your faults like fruitcake
i dismiss you like solicitation
your rat-race is a re-run
i’m so far from the broadcast

i miss the one who gaslit me
made me cling to my existence
parsing out reality
like unrotten grapes

what a strange thing it is
to miss the poison.