Hey! Professional listener!
Watch as I puke up scabs and scraps!
Just nod or grimace when I stop.
Trained to recognise which to enact.
Wonky steps, crude dark descent:
the pressure forces fluid from my brain.
Drill my skull before it explodes;
Oh hapful procedure! Oh give me release!
Despite me, to spite me, to kiss me, to bite me:
A feast of my metallic gristly blood abounds!
Sundry nothings from another festering taproot.
I’m such a sad, broken, abandoned bandicoot.
Surrogate mothering is where it’s at!
Tell me I’m your only one!
The hands of the clock clap me back upstairs.
I’m lost in the universe far from where we began.
Thank you for being kind.
See you next week
for more trepanation
and flirting and grief.
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