Her eyes are
intoxicatingly
limpid pools.
Dive in.
Get drunk.
Enjoy
the best
hangover
ever.

Could we break it down to an algorithm
Brain chemistry working like mathematics
Measured and predicted with perfect precision
Calculating the chemistry down to the last molecule
Timing the firing with pharmaceutical accuracy
Flip a switch to fix that ****
So pain only exists if you want it
Machine men and women
Flesh formed robots
Modern nanobots
Becoming more assembly line
Then we already are at this time
Sure, but let’s not

Turquoise children
In the field
Like some acid trip
Or *** plant with a low yield
Purple flowers
Prancing posies
Posing in the summer wind
Dandelions
Yellow flowers
Over there is were
Beauty begins

I am a selfish *****
But man I need that ****
Bleeding hearts
Can only drain so much
Till I become
So freaking numb
I can’t be a saint
Cause I need to have some fun

Picture your pain in a plastic pouch
Put it away till it’s lost like change in your couch
Maybe you’ll miss all this aching
Maybe you’ll be better for the loss
Maybe you won’t ever really rally past it
Maybe your pain is like plastic
Elastic and ready to snap back on you
Perhaps you can send the couch to the cleaners
Perhaps they will take all the pain you were saving
Wash it in foamy suds or dry clean it
Perhaps you should have just thrown it away