We can point to reason, play the blame game, let shame take over, and watch as the worm wriggles, but there’s no reason to get feelings involved, it’s squishy and wet, but we’re really just corpses going through the motions, you think therefore you are, if there’s feelings you have to process them, but after all the bullshit, the vampire heart has been stabbed, you really have no reason to feel bad, the flower blooms each time, does it hurt to look at, then close the door, be at peace, who wants to care anymore, life hurts, place your thumb up my butthole, bury me in the dirt…


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