just
don’t
fucking talk to me
don’t try to buy me
a drink
just
don’t engage
in any way
and don’t tell me
to cheer up or i’ll
stab you in the face
with my Christian
Louboutin Iriza heel
i’d nuke every single
one of you, all your
family restaurants
your sunsets
your birthday parties
just
for the fuck of it
leave me on the side
of the road
or drop me from a VKS
Tupolev Tu-95
over the
bleakest part of
Northern Siberia
with nothing but
the clothes on my back
a hunting knife
and a box of matches
just
don’t think there might
have been another way
there isn’t
just
this
right now
