Because I'm Just So Hilarious

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I’ve seen this place be torn to shreds.
What had once been a room full of cubicles is now home to a few extension cords with no floor.
No floor, no limitations, no footprints or desk furniture who press their heavy bodies so forcibly on the carpet that it can hold that shape for years. Years. This loveless act feels so passionate.
There’s a robot who lives in my heart, cozy and snug in the live circuits that make me.
It’s just the way I’m wired, baby.
But I’m not what I am, and you are who you are not.
These metal thin tubes are something, but they can’t be everything.
Right?
My mind explodes with thoughts of you and
I’m comfortable living in this world where you are the other half of me.
Half of me, half of this body that walks upright, just right, just off the
Cliff hangers that fall from your lips, pursed and crucified.
In some places in this world I can hear God praying,
Silent under a newly consummated bed where the virgin died.
I can almost taste the tears that flow into rivers, streams, and the faithful Atlantic.
Can you see me? I knock on this door and it always leads me nowhere.
I tumble down the rabbit hole to a place where I think only Isaac Young sleeps.
When I scrape my knees on the tile floor, he licks the blood up, lapping
On his hands like he was made for it. He yells.
Just leave the bourbon on the shelf and I will drink it by myself.
I can see the dried iron specks in his teeth when he smiles.
If I were alive I think I would be meant for the kitchen cabinet.
Saucer plates, plated silverware and plastic domes make up my city.
Isaac Young lives in this teapot,
Drowning in something only God can handle.
I pray he learns how to swim.





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