Styrofoam Soul,
You fit the mold.
You’re light,
And hollow,
And fragile.
My fingertips
Hardly graze
The surface of your
Skin,
And yet you still
Crumble
Under pressure.
You are close
To broken.
I am closer
To putting you
Back in the box,
And shipping back
The mentally defective,
Thick-skulled,
Sulking, narcissistic,
Woe-as-me *******
To the “non-profit”
“Go fund my happiness”
*** kissing
Organization
That brought the two of us
Together in the first place.