If I Was Nicer.

If you want to pick a fight with me

I’m gonna have to (politely) ask you to wait your turn

You might be the only one on the assembly line — don’t be surprised

As it’s one thing to think you’re worth my time

And another, to push me while I balance on a knife.

If you have a bone to pick with me, keep dreaming.

I’m the Pavlov to the dog embroidered to your nature.

The carrot to your proverbial stick — salivate, on command,

As I continue to stay out of reach,

Hound me and unintentionally put me at the centre of your universe

All at your own detriment — you just don’t know it yet.

From the centre of your universe, I can do what’s necessary, 

I will be your sun at high noon; try to ignore me, but I’ll still cook you (Lovingly too)

Ferment the marrow in your bones and have you re-evaluating your life choices.

Your heart will thump —

 — Like moon-beam muffled beats resounding in an undisclosed club —

Deep in the dark side of town — Evocative of — the placement of your heart —

Miss a beat — Heave — Your eyes —  Wide with surprise

It dawns on you — You’ve lost administrative control over your body’s basic motor functions

The centre of your universe says, “You never had them.”

Your finite-state machine approach to being is coming to its most natural conclusion, as I

CTRL + ALT + DEL you from existence with the nonchalance of a RAM enthusiast. 

– O.D. ©2023

Art by: Rashedjrs

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