I am the dark and I am the everending. Boo fucking hoo. Miserable as shit but be quick. I have no time to spare. There’s so much more to waste! Ok, in bad taste, but my transgressions relieve would-be lovers of the responsibility. But not the response. Which is sweat, a heavy pet, and the end of the world. I am stuck, self-destruct, self-distrust, self-disgust, self-abandon and landing constantly in venus fly traps where my lips flap to keep from knowing, perhaps, myself by trapping my self-examining, my self-congratulating, and my self-flagellating in the limbo of my own mouth.

Teeth and hips splayed. Lips made to fuck me so I can devour myself. Eaten by self-love. Just like all the trolls who justify self-improvement to feel good about themselves. That would be hell in itself, and I see so many living it, and acting it well. But it’s better than self-examination, misery, and ultimately a quick or painful death. So, self-congratulate. And we who thrive down here in this place you made by the debris of your collateral damage will swallow and follow until the expiration date.