Not Your Rhyme

Eat me drink me while I’m hot. Take this fire (it’s all I got). Break my legs, shoot my foot. Leave me in the gutter, pawing for my life. You can’t touch me. And if you could, it wouldn’t be me. I wear the blank mask of the everyman. I am you. I laugh and cry without feeling a damn thing. Watch me laugh. Ha ha ha. That’s me laughing. You want me to cry? I don’t feel like it. Fuck you.

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Filed under Flash Fiction, Session XXII

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