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Mark Sep 2019
Plastic smiles are always the worst  
They're just the slightest bit off at first  
They make your creep senses start to tingle and make a sensation  
She said, I give off a creepy sort of vibe  
I said, that's an odd way to start a conversation  
 
 
I just ate popcorn and watched girls play volleyball  
Then got made fun of for being such a creep  
But I told them I was only sitting here all by myself  
That's probably why I'm three times more creepier than the ordinary solo creep  
 
 
Mention your red Ferrari, that'll get the ******* dropping faster  
One can be a creep and still get to enjoy the role of being master  
I told a girl at her 18th birthday party, that I wanted to eat that cake off her ***  
Then I had to tell the entire party, that I had to hurry back to class  
To practice going hands solo coming and going while flashing my special hall pass  
I asked if ya wanna take a ride home with me in my squeaky cruising van?  
Truly a mystery why anyone would call me a little bit creepy, ****  
 
 
But I told them I was not here all by myself  
That's probably why I'm three times more creepier than the ordinary solo creep  
 
 
I tried to start an **** once or twice, on a bus full of giggling cheerleaders  
While on the way back from our schools annual college basketball 'bout  
Tried but failed at having *** with everyone on that bus, only as a game  
Even did a strip tease for everyone and I even tried to make out  
They didn't wanna make out but they liked my strip tease of fame  
 
 
But I told them I was not here by myself  
That's probably why I'm three times more creepier than the ordinary solo creep  
 
 
Now I feel like a junior high football ****  
Waiting for the nod, so I can stop doing it into a sock  
Why get a girlfriend when I can just ******* with ****?  
****, dude. Just call a ****** up already and get that out the way  
We all make fools of ourselves sometimes, ok for me everyday  
 
 
But I told them I was never there by myself  
That's why I'm so much more creepier than any other so, so, crazee mudda fuckka.
spysgrandson Sep 2017
I wanna have lunch with Poe,
at Burger King,

because I'm sure he would appreciate how ghoulish that King in their commercial is

I don't want him to recite verse
while we fill our medium cups with corn syrup nectar--a giant leap
down from laudanum

I do want to ask about the Cask of Amontillado and being walled in slowly, for eternity

for to me that is creepier than all the crimson cream in the Masque of the Red Death

I want to know if he likes the fries--will he dare to dip them in scarlet paste we call catsup

mostly I want to know if he remembers the alley where he was found,

not yet a legend, consumed by consumption and delirium in equal measure

and if there were rodents privileged to hear his last whispered words--or even a gasp

I am buying, Ed, so grab that Whopper with both bony paws and tell me terrible tales, evermore
Keith W Fletcher Jun 2016
Rance looked at the speedometer. Set  at 65 and on cruise control ,which he was fully aware of - at least he should have been. He kept looking anyway.
   Every time he glanced at the speedometer , he had to lift the fingers of his right hand to see, as it was draped across the 12 to 1 o'clock Zone of the steering wheel in the most casual way ,causing his fingers, in drooping repose- to resemble an enormous back scratcher.
   His left arm rested on the window sill at the elbow as he was experiencing a slightly manic episode  of nerves,  therefore he was doing his best to stretch his left ear lobe  all the way down to his shoulder . Okay, maybe not that radical, but he was firmly  in danger of removing the inner layer of skin from his earlobe with his rubbing thumb.
    Quick glances to his right with darting eyes confirmed his fear .  He  also saw the absence of Largo's large grey head., so a quick backward glance into the rear of the camper- unintentional but habitual -allowed him to see that Largo was asleep beside stormy in the approximate territory each  had staked out
  It was as he was pulling his head back forward , that Piney glanced up from The Notebook to smile.  There in the co-pilot seat , she sat gracing him with a  warm smile , and as far as Rance could tell , those lips that  smiled at him- so friendly -/were totally natural and uncolored, and if she were wearing any makeup at all ,it wasn't enough to cover the four or five little freckles just above the tip of her nose.  The natural look  gave her face that timeless look.   She could have been anywhere from 18 to 25 or 30 he didn't really know and....he really didn't care .
    It was noticing  those walnut colored flecks, just outside the iris of her light ,hazel colored eyes that  started causing him such personal turmoil.  As it seemed - to his astonishment- that he seemed unable to detatch  his own vision from  those eyes.,  Until she looked back - that is.
    First happening to him when she had  accepted his offered ride and as she wss climbing into the copilot's seat. If it hadn't been for largo, who had instantly attached his chin onto her  thigh ,she might have noticed how he was staring .  Fortunately  he was able to break it off but he was still self conscious of that effect she was having on him.
   After he'd done the initial stumble in the parking lot , he had actually carried on with - amazingly enough  -surprising clarity. It was in those 10 minutes that he had learned of her hometown and  all of the time she had been on the road up to now. Which had been all of 30 miles.
    It was that nagging voice that  kept repeating - in the back of Rances mind- the thing that she had said. " I wasn't really planning to be stopping at that restaurant , but I had to get out of that car.   Although the rest of what she said mattered , it was that part that kept resonating .
  " Oh that guy ! "/She grumbled "was just getting creepier and creepier.  The farther we went down the road , the bolder he got ,as he began to get handsy.
First , puting his hand on my knee and then a little bit later a little higher up my thigh." She shuttered  as she spoke  , in a pantomime inspired gesture before continuing. "It was after he pulled out that bottle and then started taking swigs that things got really bad.   When we started coming around that long curve, just before we got to the restaurant he was unable to bother me and ,adjust  for the curve,  so he kept driving over into the other lanes. Then he over-corrected ,almost getting  us killed  by a semi that came barreling through in the slow lane.   Laying on the horn as it swerved away to miss us, and then I knew I had to get the hell out of that car. Anyway possible.
  " So right then I saw the restaurant sign and I tried to get the best lilt into my voice and the most calm that I could muster as I said  "Hey! there's the place  I'm supposed to play tonight. Pull over ..right here! RIGHT HERE!!!"
    But in his slow, befuddled ,drunk and almost run over  brain he stopped right in the middle of the slow lane . " Where we at?"
  "We're at the place I'm playing guitar music tonight " She said -that she told him this - to keep his attention so she could wrestle the guitar case out of the back seat ,over the seat back and out the doorway of the car.  Then just as she had it ready to pull through the open doorway she reluctantly said " Thanks for the ride." Then with a little thought and ****** attitude " yeah ...I'll be playing here tonight at 8 o'clock , so why don't you come by and listen" she lied
  A bit perturbed and confused but he was still able to find his inner creep as he spoke.... muttered .....gutterally.... whatever  "Yeah I'll do that and then me and you can have a drink and I got a little Coke " then he did that drunken kind of wink where they end up opening their mouth in  such a crooked fashion that it looks like a stroke victims Visage
  " Where is a fly when you need one ". Piney  said that then she pulled  the guitar case on through  the doorway , wrestling it the 10 feet over to the grassy apron of the road . Returning to close the door as  he asked "what did ja say?
   "Oh . I said I've always wanted to give Coke a try " and with that she closed the door -/just short of a slam.
 " You got it ba "...as he pointed his right forefinger like a pistol, but if it went off Piney never heard as she trundled her case across the grass area  in the most direct route towards the building and the safety of people.
  At this moment she was still in the process of confirming the abject fear that had Rances heart doing flip-flops, as he was aware that she was still sitting there ,reading his poetry.
    As soon as she had settled into the copilots seat, allowed Storm and Largo to introduce themselves and as they happily filed her smells away. Storm returned to his spot after just a half of a minute while Largo, on the other hand gently lay his head on her leg and for all appearances seemed to go into a trance.
     She confidently rubbed his head as she spoke in a slight cooing sound then looking up at Rance as he was guiding them out the parking lot and did the cruelist thing possible . As polite as a butterfly landing on the petal of a flower she asked if she might read some.
  To which Rance had said "Sure , go ahead " and then began trying to do damage to his left earlobe. After 30 miles he was beginning to catch up with his runaway thoughts.
   Any remnants of sua da vi that he had mustered up in the parking lot , now long gone -evaporated. Unfortunately now it was being  replaced by a carrousel of thoughts in poor Rances mind that spun to the cacophony of music from the most  sinister sounding Calliope.
   Though the music blasted a torrential sound wave throughout his mind it was not enough to silence the voice that kept repeating " oh man oh man oh man" - with annoying and echoing  persistance - from an obscure region--, somewhere beyond the Swirling carrousel.
   Then suddenly the crazy carnival and the voice came to a sudden mind shuttering stop.as piney's soft velvety voice interceded. " you wrote these...i mean ...all of them ?"
  A quick glance towards Piney was enough to.see this fresh faced girl with those magnetic eyes- now filled to overflowing  with tears -  was looking at him in a wonderfilled  way as she held the open notebook in right hand and with the other she stroked largos head.,Which had rematerialized.on her lap , just as soon as her voice had broken the relative silence.
    " He really likes you" remarked the reemerging Rance ,as he indicated Largo with his head. 'And yes I did ...write .....yeah all of them." Not really smooth he said to himself ..but okay.
    " This one " Piney pointed to a page that Rance could not take time to recognize " Somber Sunset. Its killing me....my grandmother just went ...and went through Alzheimer's before she passed. "
    Rance was still staring out the windshield, in silent astonishment - at her perception- when Piney gathered herself to the point of unbroken speech. " that is what its about ...right ?"
      Rance turned a full face ..straight on and confident gaze into her tear glissening eyes ( sua DA vi having returned full force) "Yes " he softly acknowledged her perceptivity" as I read it ...yes"
      Thats  when that annoying voice decided to reassert itself . "  There is always something about a damsel in distress that always brings  out even the most quivering coward ...." SHUT THE HELL UP!! Lance barked out at the voice as he stared out the windshield while making a slight adjustment to avoid.a small box in the road.
   At that very moment the sleeping Storm opened his eyes to stare forward with both ears and eyes , as if he had heard his masters voice call out in angry distress. With no danger detected as he scanned the area, he was about to resume his squirrel watching -which had just gotten good before the interruption -/Storm let his eyes scan around and land on Largo ." Humans "he spoke to himself " good thing they're smart enough to befriend dogs. Now that Largo...that's a dog that poor Rance could learn a thing or two from." Then he closed down his eyes and calling out "squorrely come on squirrel where'd ya go"  as his slight snore began and his right rear leg began twitching.
blythe Nov 2014
One dull grey day had just passed
Leaving me feel like an outcast
Then thinking of what had gone wrong
For me not to feel strong.

As I think deeper
The thoughts are getting weirder and creepier
Making me feel like lost in a crowd
Making me shout out loud.

When I am already calmed down
I shook my head and frown
Realizing I have more important things to do
That to keep on feeling so blue.

So I stood up with my head held high  
And said, "I am now ready to fly"-
Fly away from my sorrows
And look up for better tomorrows.
Written in year 2012. Just found in my drafts. Thanks for reading :)
an0nym0us May 2018
Tap...tap...tap...
I can feel it on my lap.
Knock...knock...knock...
Its not just the clock.

I can hear it...
Unwanted visit...
I can feel it...
But I cannot see it...

Something's wrong,
Time takes too long.
Presence that's too strong
I don't wanna stay for long.

I didn't invite it in
It invited itself in
A spirit that is unclean
I try to keep my sanity in.

But once, I lost it
Nightmares caused by it
That triggerd me to fear it
I nearly got taken by it.

Hum...hum...hum...
Where did it even came from??
Dug...dug...dug...
Even creepier than a deadly venomous bug.

I fought it
I won from it
But it didn't stop from there
It didn't stop to scare.

"If I can't have you,
Then I shall take you!!"
Everyday I fight back
To keep my soul and sanity intact!
Sharina Saad Jan 2015
A smiling woman
Sitting in silence
Creepier than a ghost
Scarier than a volcano...
Silence can be gold
Silence can be threatening
the most dangerous animal in the world..
A smiling woman
Sitting in silence
Kaede Jul 2019
Nothing's more creepier than a dream becoming real each passing day.

Three am and I woke up gasping for air to breathe while tears streaming down in my chubby cheeks. For the first time, I don't know what is real and what is fake, and what is wrongly perceived by my senses.

As I struggled to convince myself the idea of it that it did not happened, the more I was compelled to believe that it really did. The way I cried in the dream is the way I wailed tonight. Every plot of the dream turns to be more authentic than it ever did. The vivid details of my dream are coming like a kaleidoscope of horror movies I've watched as I continue to growl in agony.

And there is nothing I can do, but to continue watching myself.

Three am and I woke up gasping for air to breathe while tears streaming down in my chubby cheeks. For the first time, I don't know what is real and what is fake, and what is wrongly perceived by my senses.

Reality felt like a little less real.

From then on, I'm becoming less much in reality and I'm becoming more in my dreams. Everything I see around in this world looks faker and faker each breathe that I take.
Go on living or go on dying? Either way, just  be brave.
Lila Valentine Sep 2016
It's sweater weather, hoodie weather, crush-the-fallen-leaves weather
It's colder weather, bleaker weather, grayer, foggier, quieter weather
It's darker weather, creepier weather, don't-go-out-alone-at-night weather
It's long walks weather, graveyard weather, almost-Halloween weather
It's fading weather, dying weather, eerie, empty, silent weather.

And yet....I've never felt more alive
Guys I'm so ready for Halloween and October and fall you have no idea
I've been ready for the past several weeks
blythe Feb 2013
One dull grey day had just passed
Leaving me feel like an outcast
Then thinking of what had gone wrong
For me not to feel strong.

With one eyebrow raised
One hand cupping the face
And the other scratching my head
While my back straightened on my bed.

As I think deeper and deeper
The thoughts are getting weirder and creepier
Making me feel like lost in a big crowd
Making me shout out loud.

When I already calmed down
I shook my head and frowned
Realizing I have more important things to do
Than just to keep on feeling so blue.

I want an escape from my reality
And live in my fantasy
But then I ended up drowning in miseries
'Coz I was overcome by my worries.

So I stood up with head held high
And said, "I am now ready fly" -
Fly away from sorrows
And look up for better tomorrows.
Originally written on January 2013, just can't remember the exact date. And yes, I felt somehow sad that day. But now, I'm not just fine, I'm truly happy alreay :) haha.
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2019
so, i was waiting for this one for several
days,
   dribbling - if that's the best
to express: anticipation...

            and...
                   thank **** i brought with me
some left-over ***,
and some whiskey...
  because... if those weren't handy...
i would start thinking:

  this is a horror movie...
or an art gallery?

         in question? the neon demon...
sure, sure,
i've hear snippets from the critics,
i've heard the soundtrack,
what could be bad about
a movie with such a hypnotic
soundtrack?

   oh... right... the movie itself...
ten minutes later,
after i have watched it...
and...
             where was the horror...
you know, the stereotypical
horror of a zombie-esque
male 6ft+ protagonist,
hooded, walking alone
in either the woods
or the out-suburbs...

         oh, right...
that's me day to day,
day to night...
          
    i've seen the face of being
astouded by horror...
me, turning into a walk
down
a low lit alley,
and an old man...
200 metres away,
spotting me, and cowering,
to give me a pass so that
both our bulks of flesh
would fit into the conscrition
of a pathway...

      200 metres away,
and the ****** still saw me...
let me tell you,
it would have been
twice as creepier
if i just bowed
and implied: you first,
kind sir...

the neon demon... hmm...
fun film...
but is it really worth being
labelled horror, by genre,
and nothing short of:
     "risque"...
     i mean...
          art nouveau...
****... what's the other term
for it?
      (tick-tock-tick-tock): ah!
avant-garde
  albeit mingling with still-life
painting...
   sure, sure,
  i loved all the angles...
and the... colours...
  but... maybe it was the last
remaing dosage of ***,
or the extra whiskey that came
later...
       i'd prefer horror
to be in allingement to
1970s slasher movies...
  where i'd... panic! and no disco...

once again,
a movie that... became overpowered
by the soundtrack...
           come on...
julian winding with the song...
the demon dance...
and the poverty's worth
of a the meagre scraps of the movie...
hey... ooh... ooh...
look at me... listening
to the song in full, solo...

and... what a circus of thoughts
i have to accompany me with...
like...
this example...
   i must be living in some
alternative universe...

just today,
i was walking to my Iraqi Pirate
shopkeeper "fwend"...
listening to some cheap-***
babylonian bongo-bongo
music...

           and just ahead of me...
5 starlings...
which basically implies
5 english girls geared up,
and ready to hit the small town,
with dreams of L.A....
   pristine figures...
cat-walk models...
don't you ever find that
cat-walk models can implant
in you a thought-virus
making you overtly conscious
of how you walk?

   anyway... what time and day
and month is it?
oh...
                 half-term...
    so what i wtinessed was...
a bunch of 16 year olds
(hopefully)
   walking to the bus-stop
from a pre-drinks session
in their council houses...

          i'm too awkward...
big frame, easily spotted...
    and that's prior to watching
the movie...
   hmm...

  you know the one thought
running through my 'ed
when watching the neon demon...
now i love animals...
but seeing what people do
to other people?
    can someone, please(!)
give me an apron and send me
to the slaughterhouse?!
  the whole affair
just took my mind off
(if ever) advocating for
veganism...
              
           all that "excess" furr...
perfected pork chops...
***** of beef...
          and... the fashion industry's
underbelly...
heavenly standards
it would seem:
the fatter the pig...
        the prettier the inverted
Blakean painting
of the great dragon
and the woman dressed in
the sun...
   as... made a fetish from...
by?
                   ralph feans: toothfairy.

one ******* month spent
visiting my grandparents
in Poland,
and here i am,
a month later, upon my return,
just... so, so, so so eager
to welcome back this
cluster-**** of vestern
modernity!

     but those girls?
            those essex girls...
it's... late... february...
and they're out there, tonight,
wearing nothing but
skimp clothing,
   yeah... back in the 1960s...
mid-winter...
   the mini-skirts were
all but rave...
   i'm huddling in a polysterene
hoodie...
gloves...
and they're "out-there"
             donning raw flesh...

like i said, alternative universe...
i think i was told this
was going to be a horror movie...
dunno...
   i look at myself in
the mirror and i see a horror movie...
the hell did i just watch?

  it wasn't horror...
       in the classical concept
of a horror movie...
there are instances in a film...
where you hush the noise
down...
         because the images
are less scary
than the sound beneath them...
this ******* movie?
every time some music
became prominent
i decided to reign the volume
up...

         rare, but it happens...
when a movie is overpowered
by a soundtrack...
        n'ah... this wasn't horror...
it was art...
i give you that...
    that someone being
the director must have really
studied
        edward hopper
     and david hockney...
someone fused them together...
dimmed the colour in david hockney
and made emphasis of angle
           in edward hopper...
of the former and both the latter...
i just love the quote:
  'i just like to capture light...'
first ******* painter to say so...
by any standards of a stretched
imagination...

         me? critic?
              yeah... by way of:
             music was over-powering...
dialogue was... scraps...
         and... compared
to a latex mask...
     those californian models
are supposed to scare me
with their: to become generic
beauty standards equivalent to e.t.?
yeah... i was petrified...

                it's like those people
in tech are trying to avert
    interacting with...
                less robot, more flesh...
but more robot in the end...
  i.e.
        no flesh, all robot...
      but more human in the end...

oi oi chaps! hopes this helps
your algorithms studying
   whatever this will end being...
necrophilia of a desairologist..
seriously?
   that's the zenith?

        i heard that the one from
the city i was born in...
used to play poker with them!

  ah... because nothing that's
human can ever be alien to us...
can it?
                if that's not the case...
then no wonder...
all those poor eleanor rigby
types...
        suffocating in
    a beauty that's no more than
a labyrinth
              of assembled shards
that could never resemble
  the mild discomfort of, ugly,
sedated by the feeling of
an armchair...
             of all the prostitutes
i've ever been with:
   armchair beauties...
       middle-aged... chub...
but beauty that could be made...
mandible;

to add:
     reciproated responsibility...
condoms were in full play...
     not like this russian teenager...
she the cage, me the ******* sparrow...
just because:
that's how you translate emotions...
to a reciprocated zenith...
        no no, no thank you...
i'm better off with a *******
for an hour...
than with a starved russian teen
who thinks it best
to lie about contraception...
   i already mentioned this before...
year later...
   so... her grandmother was
her mother...
   her mother was her sister...
her father was her mother's boyfriend...
and her uncle was her brother...

     see what being dipped
in a lake of naivety does to you?
me... in america...
ha ha... ha ha ha ha!
it's one thing to have visited
russia...
          that pile of croissants?
no thank you...
   it's enough to have to deal
with whittle miss morbid England.
cheryl love Oct 2015
The siren awakes me, shakes my heart
Alarm bells are ringing inside my head
I cant quite seem to distinguish the two apart
so I pull the sheets up and resume sleep in the bed.

There it is again, the sirens seem a lot deeper
It as if a hand, an icy hand is stirring me again
This time the situation is a lot creepier
and my bravery is heading straight down the drain.

My hands are shaking now and I have gone quite hot
The blood is rushing around like an agitated stream.
I hear a distant lullaby, and it is making me smile a lot
because I know this is just one very bad dream.
Nathan Vienneau Dec 2012
Inching along
Creepier than hell
Closer, closer
Writhing with agony
When will it end?
All action ceased...
Finally, peace
Bob B Sep 2016
What are you trying to hide, Mr. T?
What do you fear we will find
In your secret tax returns?
Let's see…. What springs to mind?

Are there more illegal dealings
With Cuba? Maybe so.
Or maybe more deals with Russia
Than we want to know?

Regarding charitable causes, perhaps
You don't want us to see
That you are not as charitable
As you let on to be?

Or maybe you don't want us to know--
And thus prefer to stall--
That while we pay our federal taxes,
You pay none at all?

You talk of reasons for nondisclosure;
The reasons are falling apart.
You smugly say that not paying taxes
Shows that you are smart.

Could there be something going on
That's even creepier yet?
When the topic comes up you seem
To break out in a sweat.

You expect transparency
From others. Isn't that true?
But heaven forbid if others expect
Transparency from you!

(9-30-16) By Bob B
Justin Oct 2019
If the freedom we seek is inside of us all
Then why does it seem that we constantly fall
I look up at the tv and what do I see
Pornographic teens and liars on screen
Industrial revolution privatized into dreams
Edgar Allan had it right
A dream within a dream forever in our sight
Cuz that’s all we’ll ever truly have
First it was white on black and then black on black
Now it’s kids on kids
Where the **** are we at?
A nation that was great is now upside down
Liberty, Justice and Freedom sold for the crown
You see it’s a power trip and always has been
Whether it’s the Devil or human sin
We take what we please and **** in his name
The lesson we learn is we all bleed the same
I think I’m ok I think I’ll be fine
I really should say I know and not think but that is alright
I’m dark and morbid like DC Comics; I like it
My anger is energy just like a mosh pit
I wish I could’ve prevented corruption from it’s birth
And **** every ******* who destroys this blessed Earth
Some may think I’m politically incorrect
In all reality they’re scared of the truth
They rely on the word of puppets and expect nothing less
In a culture of immoral ******* ignorant sheep, God bless
Nothing is sacred; nothing is real
We justify lies for truth and then we appeal

Advertisements psychologically used to make us think
Should we buy this? Do we need this?
I’ll **** in a PETE 1 water bottle and call it a drink
Sell it for a price that’s higher than life
That was used to make our brains shrink
In a blink of your eye and it’s gone
Kind of like the money you get on payday
It’s just the same old song
Bills hit and then it’s MAYDAY
The world is a business
And capital is its tool
What does democracy really mean to you fools?
When we the people are dumb deaf and drool
In a catatonic zombie like state
Waiting for the next big cell phone release to date
Everywhere I go people ****** into social media
Like it’s giving away free cheese
No privacy makes it even creepier
Chemically addicted narcissistic ***** please
Get up off your knees and make a real living
Do something for the world
And not just your commitments
What has happened to the human condition?
We’ve corrupted our own minds for the glory of vision
**** but that’s just it
We were never meant to see into the future
Now we play God and act like Lex Luthor
One of the greatest criminal minds of our time
And yet we’ve learned nothing except
How nicely they shine in the wake of a lie…
spysgrandson Oct 6
I wanna have lunch with Poe,
at Burger King,

because I'm sure he would appreciate how ghoulish that King in their commercial is

I don't want him to recite verse
while we fill our medium cups with corn syrup nectar--a giant leap
down from laudanum

I do want to ask about the Cask of Amontillado and being walled in slowly, for eternity

for to me that is creepier than all the crimson cream in the Masque of the Red Death

I want to know if he likes the fries--will he dare to dip them in scarlet paste we call catsup

mostly I want to know if he remembers the alley where he was found,

not yet a legend, consumed by consumption and delirium in equal measure

and if there were rodents privileged to hear his last whispered words--or even a gasp

I am buying, Ed, so grab that Whopper with both bony paws and tell me terrible tales, evermore
We were never in sepia
but the scarier it gets,
the creepier it will become
and the yellowing of your skin
is due to the lack of Sun.

We all look like old photographs
the ones in well-loved albums
the ones that look like we had fun
sometime
somewhere
in the Sun.

Morbid?
blame
Covid

nnnnnnineteen.

— The End —