@drunivers, for death!
A PLAYGROUND ISN’T THE IDEAL PLACE TO RAISE A KID: monkey bars laced with tetanus / swings with rusty chains that’ll catch you by the neck / rocks to shove into your pockets while you drown waiting for a parent to pull you out of the water. it always made him feel bad when he was little, because everyone had moms and dads to pick them up and he just had a couple of friends who were as sad and ugly as he was. ( to this day, he always closes his eyes when adults pass by. ) so he gets it, or he thinks he does / so he sees a girl with a sad face and feels inclined to intervene. never mind that she’s standing right in his self-assigned smoke spot.
❛ greetings, stripling. ❜ he leans against the offensively green playground ladder, hands buried deeply in the expanse of oversized pockets. nimble fingers on stiff cigarettes, grabbing / pulling / thinking better of it. ( acid, acid –– tab tab. DON’T DO DRUGS, KIDS. ) jimbo hawks and spits. ❛ wanna build a cardboard submarine? ❜ a beat missed / a hop, a skip, a jump! of a stray neuron. ❛ sike. ❜ . . . ❛ shouldn’t you be in class? ❜
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