Intransitive Verbs - Bent Shapes

Perceived danger

Has made you all strangers

And me willing

To destroy my dreams

Tear them at the seams

If it’s a mercy killing

To not let my fervor

Turn me scapegoat herder

(I'm taking names, I’m giving grief)

Some hand-holding holdout scolding the sold-out…

It’s not who I was meant to be

But if I lose my persistent fear of death

Won’t somebody please call my therapist?

'Cause I’ve been working so long to prove myself wrong

When I said puberty would be my midlife crisis

And I’d say ìI wanna go back to when I felt okay.î

Or I’m sure I would, if i could remember

When that was, anyway

It remains to be seen if I’ll be spared;

If I can be happy without being scared

Or if I need a vacation

From all the subtle evasion

The idiot checks for protecting my neck

And the reticence as self-preservation

Baggage.

Damage.

Psychic ills

Black coffee to take my pills

The hope that all these wounds could be

The places the light enters me

There’s no neutral narrative

Or, at least, that’s what I’ve been parroting

In so many words (mostly intransitive verbs)

And only 'cause hyperbole…

Well, it’s like, literally the worst