Que

The too, the too too
The toodleoo tootoo
Too emotional, too stoic
Too sheltered, too wild
Too childish, too serious
Too maudlin, too furious
So many segments of the pie fighting for survival. Birds of prey pecking at pecking order for tasty treats. Apple humblebrag slathered with cinnamon sticks, toppers with the creme fraiche. Noxious fugues overtaking a taking blatherer wriggling under duress; crimson carpet rough stroke cheeks after the fall. Madam I’m Adam, done and said it all. Eve come a lately, scared the darling into disco panic. Maybe she’s playing the game too, playing straight till epiphany arises. New dawn new day, same shit anyway. Not stuck in a rut, parallel parked into it checking mirrors and shoulders for hidden enemies. Methinks ninjas about. Anxiety paranoia, paroxysm paroxiety.

Bloody lips pucker up from stress bites, eating the face away for spite, blink into nothingness Jean Paul appalled. Being thriving, jackals conniving, waiting at creaky doors for skin scraps, slovenly jaws hanging low like Betty Boop admirers. All against me, trust no one, too trust too scared.

Too.

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