it’d be funny if it didn’t destroy you

despite all of the
metaphors for
the
sardonicism
of
going to
the fucking jeweler
on a mission
and
when he
slides his greasy palm
across the counter
into a
half ass greeting
you
to his surprise
say
hello
i’m looking to purchase
eggs
he’ll think well now
what the bloody fuck
did you come
into a jewelers store
asking to purchase
eggs for?
how foolish
dimwitted
doltish
the metaphors leak
right into
the genesis
of
oh no
you’re going to
wake up
in their bed
after alcohol
takes the wheel
and drives
looking for what
looking for love
looking for love
where
in the places you’ll
least find it
seeking validation
oh
from people
who have never even
felt your magic
but we laugh
so funny
wouldn’t go to buy a record
at a drug store
wouldn’t go to the desert
for a drink
but my mind
will wander
into the idea
i need love
from all the people
least willing to give it
so maybe i’d
let my fingers slide across
the pitcher of water
condensation
pooling all around
as flames claw at my ankles
i’d grab the gasoline
make it so
the egg man
doesn’t win the award
for the most obtuse
vain humans
craving the acceptance
even from those we like
the least
it is here
it is the one you feed
and here
you feed the beast

Baylee Morgan is a wildfire trapped in a human body writing to reel in the flames, her mind residing in buffalo, new york for a spell. as she is new to sharing her work most of it can be found at bmowrites.wordpress.comor on instagram with the handle @bmo.writes.