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How Much Can We Bloody Handle?

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Haven’t you noticed they’re just trying to test your limits 

See how much of the impossibly unfathomable you can field without breaking into pieces

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It’s fun for both sides, Cruelty

When you get burned hard enough you grow into the shape of the Cruel Glass 

Like smoke in a Life Bong that goes into the Mouth of Sadist Lover

You want to take another hit

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The bloody annoyingness of the endlessly harsh

Like a fox who screeches for the pleasure of hearing you say “Please, Stop.”

We keep crashing into the surface, over and over, trying desperately to feel Normal, Plain

The imagined past of Green, which stays so in our too-tiny brains

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They will push you to be great, and then they will take it all, and you will want them back

You will want their Sugar Ecstasy and daring daringness 

Like it never went away

You will want the Headlines, the Tailends, the absolute Gall

How sick it all is

And the moments it pauses you scramble to press play again, desperately for wishing for the Opposite

You’re curious too:

How much can you bloody handle?

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In the end you will choose to continue flying

Despite your too-tiny brain’s knowledge of Constant Crashing

Happy to at least have felt the ecstasy of being close to death

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