If I could shoot my
eye out with that thing, I’d just
sit and watch TV.
A Christmas story
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If I could shoot my
eye out with that thing, I’d just
sit and watch TV.
Only if you’re not
the one doing the shopping,
cleaning and baking.
My spare bedroom holds
many possibilities
under all that junk.
I burn candles and
incense. Maintain silence. Find
myself in nothing.
Sometimes, the hunger
that compels you to eat a
cookie is sadness.
Soldiers wear helmets.
Women wear makeup, styled hair.
Our mode of defense.
Could I love you if
we did not touch, if I did
not mark you as mine?
The house of my heart
is white, clean, pure. No windows,
doors. No visitors.
Two tribes – In-laws and
Parents – force you to over-
eat, then watch TV.
On weigh-in day I’d
inhale helium if it
would make me lighter.