I got the fucking job

I’m gonna muster all the sarcasm I can right now and just say it

I love how much I get to hurt and how many
tears I spill
how I dehydrate
until I look like a tanned hide
ready for working
before anything postive comes my way

I’m gonna be honest here

I know it is for the best

For the suffering and struggle of life
is where it is decided
DO YOU DESERVE GOOD?
Do you lay beneath miles of ocean
looking hopelessly up
where you think that perhaps you see a flicker of sunlight
but it is most likely only pressure
popping pockets of something in your brain
You’re looking hopelessly up but that doesn’t mean you aren’t moving
With every second of every moment you are reaching,
reaching and walking and striding
and
running
though still your body is stagnant
Forced paralysis
Unintentional immobility
Premature rigor mortis
This is where you feel depression slink on over
She’s wearing a black, sequin gown
feathers
Painted on brows and this thick
glossy, red lip
Gloves; too long
Heels; too high
and she kisses your ear, runs her tongue over your jaw
She’s a temptress tempting you to give the fuck in
allow your drowned days to knit together
so that every waking moment feels like
liquid inhalation

Then your phone rings

and

you got the job

You can finally get home

 

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