Mars Alator

She’d been around
for another illness
the year before,
but she really shined,
and we really got close,
after I hurt my knee.

It was easy to despair,
since I’d hurt myself at work,
and my company
suddenly started acting
like they’d
never met me.
My insurance got cut off,
and I had to have surgery…

And in walks this
5-foot-and-practically-nothing
ball of hatred
and delusions of grandeur
who wanted everything
that wasn’t a good time
to go fuck itself…

She was hilarious,
and exactly what I needed.

At least anger
has forward momentum.

We started calling her
“Dobby,”
since she was around
what felt like
every day.

We would scream
epithets at the television,
video games,
ideas…
anything that
had the misfortune
to come near us.

I owe her more
than she’ll ever know,
since I never
let on just how dark
my thoughts were getting.

And eventually
we fell to entropy,
like most things.
Then the race
to both sides
of the bridge
with torches.
It still bothers me.

I know
I can still go
fuck myself,
and that’s
beyond perfect.

Take your sock
and beat it,
bitch.

And take care
of yourself.

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