The bags under my eyes
are darker
than the most bottomless abyss.
Within, they hold creatures
so terrifying that Lovecraft himself would shriek.
Men the shape of oblique triangles
with the brain span of burnt pineapples.
Women the shape of oxidized avocado seeds:
with a touch of melted cheese
and a smile that says I have special needs.
These creatures are just the normal ones.
The not-so-special prodigal daughters and sons.
But the ones that catwalk out on the stage
that is my eyelids
terrify me.
They wait!
And wait!
And wait
until it’s the perfect time to strike,
just like a fisherman fishing for a pike.
They are the underdeveloped aliens
with nuclear bombs
for brains
that society molds.
They whine!
And whine!
and whine
about injustices
and which way the universe
should create its folds
but they don’t care about how little
the future now holds.
They attack at first glance
with porcelain teeth
and are deaf in both ears
not even giving anybody a chance.
And they circle their prey
with a baby doe prance
and get ready to fight again with a spaghetti strap stance.
All who battle
with these despicable creatures
risk bags under their eyes
where they dig deeper and deeper
leaving you like the lord of the flies.
Every word uttered
and every word muttered
now affects society.
They lather up the audience
and what they say makes you want to cry
because they just left you buttered
and on the stove to fry.
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