i've had an easy life
and if i ever said otherwise
it's lies, all god damn lies
insecure exaggerations

i'm not tied down with the need for patience
i'm not waiting
i'm not scratching at my insides
over imperfect ethical dilemmas

i don't have a urine taste in my mouth
from an overzealous dungeon master
suggesting that i work quite a bit faster
with a helpful strike across my back

i only wish sometimes
though i hesitate to admit it
in the anonymity of a crowded street
that my life one day might be a little easier

weakness surges through cardiac valves
stomach turning over undigested mortality
and the tragedies of fake-blond barbie corpses
evolve into a caricature of a nightmare