Priorities (poetry)

He’s taking phone calls
Then running back to me
His rules, his protocols
But don’t have a skeleton key

WARNING BIG MOUTH BELOW

I’m sick of being quarantined. I’m sick of dying. I’m sick of the VA murdering me.

I’m crawling through hell to stay alive

Not getting phone calls. Don’t know his Twitter. But he need me to know he’s hot and after.

I would be hurting less with his cuddles. But nooo zombieeeeee

And he wanna punish me for getting stuck

At least John Jones’s brother said “I’m not mad at you for getting stuck” and he never saw him again after that

My sister died and went to hell with me mad at her

I’m still mad!!!!

I need to escape the Matrix. I don’t wanna vote. I need a small field. To grow things or die.

I do have a bunch of doctors appointments coming up, I fucking hate the Hitler deathcamp I’m trapped in

I don’t know how to escape the regime

Without leaping into the singularity

I would like to die in his arms. Just him.

The Devil is coming after me hard

So turns out he had trouble messaging too

Which means he didn’t block me

And all those other thoughts that followed after were untrue

“He was bored”

“He didn’t like the topic”

“He wanted to punish me”

WHAT DIDN’T I THINK UP

I don’t know anymore if people are being emo or if it’s the algorithm

I JUST DON’T KNOW

I absolutely did not block him from communicating tho – and he was blocked for like five minutes on my fucking phone

And he knows why

HE KNOWS

HE SHOULD NOT HAVE TOLD ME ABOUT HIS TWITTER

Don’t even need to say it

🤐

He wants me to know about the life he’s living that I’m not allowed to know about

I should probably cut my dead ends off but fuck it I’m almost dead

And I like looking like a mermaid