Imagine bringing your dead hamsters back to life over and over again

To keep their wheels spinning,

And telling them they’d better love you-

Or else.

I don’t want anymore strength for trudging in circles.

I want to see this cycle so gloriously broken.

To see my last corpse crumble beneath me, and make my last ascent through the prison air

To disregard the summoned guard posing as Jesus and Krishna and all who would guilt me into coming back one more very last time.

I want to shield my eyes from that tunnel of light long enough to see another way out,

To see the stars for who they are

And if in that moment, in turn my hopes crumble beneath me,

No crack to be found in the firmament,

Inner-self-destruction a last false prophet,

What then…

No chance of burning up or burning down,
Just forever burnt out…

Hamsters so quickly, gloriously enough, chew their way out of those ****** plastic cages.