Here you are. Sitting on my couch.
Dead after all these long years. Watch
as your finger falls off. Black blood rolls gently
from your ear joining the pool under your ass.
This is a black mass and your attendance is required.
The reliquary is obvious, invisible and violet. The tendonitis
is metaphysical and transubstantial. Life is obscene and
criminal. You should never die sitting upright
damn it light me with your smile. But there you are.
You should never have to die on a snowy winter's eve
slammed into a tree with a steering column up your throat.
But there you are taking the low road. Inevitable.
Superliminal yet invisible. Sitting on the couch. Dead.
You should never die because someone told you
to skip the medication. But there you are. You
should never die because the gun is there and nothing is
fair. But there you are. Be here now
my ass. This is the bosonic joist. The ultimate
heist. We were never here.

P.S. No one ever listened.

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