Doomed
When I spend nights in,
reading celebrity news,
am I avoidant or
the smartest girl
alive.
World news
is killing us all,
obviously.
Sneaky murder,
weird ideals.
Thank you, internet.
Now I know in real time
that all the weed
won’t ever cure me,
nor will food,
beer, girls, or
even lovely
money.
We are doomed.
Life is futile,
and beautiful people
are even sadder
than the mentally ill
on long-haul flights.
What a nuisance
we have to bother
staying sane,
staying sober.
Instead
I will map out
playgrounds in my head
where everyone is team Kayne
Horror Sleaze Trash 