The universe is infinite.
If you let a monkey sit down on a typewriter
At some point in time it will have written all of the books of
whatever library is closest to you
without a mistake
in chronological order
This means that the monkey must have had several tries before
doing so.
If you apply this to the universe, it means that there could be
an infinite amount of planets
full of flourishing, frolicking life
or destructive, dreadful demons
An entire planet made out of something we can't see
feel
touch
fathom
But this also means, that I could be sitting somewhere
With my exact same memories
At this percise moment in time
Writing this percise poem
Or I could be living somewhere
With different memories and choices
There probably are earths where I got run over by a car several
days ago
Or where you are a king
Of a different species
Of a different age

And this might make us feel very small and inferior
But keep in mind that you are
sitting here
/thinking/
And no matter how big the universe is
YOU are HERE and that's what matters.

Drained of all emotion,
I'm left cold, and alone,
deprived of sunlight, and all contact with the world,
I'm my own prisoner,
a prisoner of my own mind,

I have about a cent to my name,
and only a shred of my sanity remains,
is this meant to be the devils sick little game?
because I never said I wanted to play,

now I've been tied to a marionette,
and they're trying to make me dance,
but how am I supposed to prance about,
when I'm drowning in the guilt of my subconscious,
and bleeding drops of red on the stage,
for my wounds have opened,
and became wider over time,
for the stitching of this marionette was a lot less than percise,
and now it has putrified,
leaving me to bleed out,
and dance the devils dance,
for the rest of my ******* life.

Suffice
Concise
Percise
Anything that rhymes with rice.
Not nice
You're cold as ice.