the psychic says another guy
is the real asshole
I say I’m not in love
a relief for both parties

a memory of my dad
warning me about a guy that dances
like John Travolta
is replaying in my head
along with the time that my step-sister
tried to drown me
but I feel free in an awful way

It’s existential
so I went to walmart to buy a
wireless printer

with my armpits
unshaven and Torn
playing in the background, I
went home to listen to the song again

i’m writing
about you in
my diary
but about myself

the one filled with
pages the world
that I imagine
more real than
this dead eye
and fish out
of water body

all of the childhood trauma
and fall back down

that’s happening, I think I fell off a bed
while dancing