Sunder

When I attend, invitationless, I attend when . . .
My foot on foreign soil, I am not here yet
Yet here I am on foreign soil my foot steps
Footsteps-steps-steps into a circle-steps-circle
Sir Kill welcomes me
“Well, come,” it says and says and says and asks “Who are you?”
I am a fireball in that I am _small and _brief and PRETTY and dangerous maybe
But maybe not,
it depends
on who is throwing me.
Lulu from Final Fantasy X = dangerous
Mario Mario from Super Mario = 50/50 depending on the puppeteer
Hulk Hogan = not dangerous, a little cute, strangerous, in a pathetic way.
That is me, Hulk Hogan’s fireball, I’m not wet
I’m a charade,
expertly performed yet poorly executed in the explanation of ideas
I’m the desecration of ideas
I, dear, am the dear eye of the deer, aye, caught in headlights
I’m an explosion of disgust,
uh no,
discuss lust for curiosity,
pent up animosity,
flossed lost narratology discussing disgust of my notoriety.

I’m a minority, mistaken for a majority, but presented as minority for the majority of the time
I open my mouth. I’m the human expression of south. Dirty minded degenerate youth,
uncouth like George Bluth. Generating degeneration since 97.

Often I make no sense but sometimes I makes cents, rarely dollars.

At thirteen, I still played with my sisters dolls, uhhhhhh.
I’m unwanted by the elite,
sleeping I am meek,
scared I am a creep,
_{that’s why I’m always alone.}
I’m scared to be a creep.

I don’t understand the line between cool and friendly and annoying and creepy so I stay away
from the line. Define the line because delined I’m fine in my decline. I’m afraid I’ll die alone.
I’m ready to be on my own
Mindblown with no loan
I am ready to be told to leave, razor like Bulbasaur, sore like razorfades
I am a language that sounds almost English
Mixed with a bit of Simlish
Fished through nets from a fable untold
Hold me ‘til I’m told where to go
Wares-To-Go is the name of the store I own in a recurring dream I have where
I live inside of a video game and I am made of pick cells and ate bit tune art and I am a cat, a
great big fat cat with a big cheery grin and a coin that I lick and lick and lick and you think
I’m making the coin lucky but I’m not, I’m not, I’m just convinced that it’s chocolate.

At my party, every coin is chocolate and I am a one-deer-land.

When was the last time you saw a butterfly in love and was it purple and was its partner
pink? That’s how it always starts because that compatible, compatible, COME – PAT A
BULL . . . and then I get gored.

I am a Taurus and people say that makes cents,
But I need dollars.
I am a gathering no one attends.