Monday, January 6, 2014

They Tell Me

They tell me I think about death too much.
What, do they never enjoy her company
Laugh at her jokes, let her breathe on their necks?

They tell me I read into things too much.
Not everything is about something else,
They say. They might be right about that one.

They tell me I am impulsive. I am bipolar.
I have ulcerative colitis. I am an alcoholic.
I have a racing mind. I am hot and cold water.
I am funny. I am somber. I am Jeeeesus Christ!

They tell me you like a good story.
As long as it doesn't have a sting in its tail.
Brother, this is life; what is a tale
But a holster for a sting?

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