It's feeding time. Put your favorite food on the stove, But don't you stand beside and stir while there's lots left to do:
Like drying your eyes with the light of meaningless information Like running laps between choices to make, never quite reaching any Like watching herds of dust cats growing in every corner Like ignoring texts Like drifting away Like feeling dead or fearing you will be or wishing you were Like covering your skin's imperfections with pure red Like decorating walls with scratches for every time you've ever: inconvenienced someone slightly thought ill of anyone or anything made others worry failed to take care of yourself burned your food Like...
Ding! Now that you've taken your time with these routine steps, your meal should be ready. You've done well. The charred bits serve as perfect fuel to the fire that consumes you.
The resulting smoke signals a message: "You were right, you truly are worthless. Here's what's left, only a few bites of what's unburnt. You deserve nothing more"
A memory of my days spent living in a college dorm. I'm glad these times are over.