Look at you

Look at you.

Walking around

like you own the place.

Like you're owed something.

Like the universe should somehow

bend to your will.

Make you happy.

Make you succesful.

Like you're not just one

of billions of meat sacks

scrounging through the muck.

On this vanishing speck,

with death at every corner.

Blessed with a moment

of consciousness

just to squander it

paying of a mortgage

and getting drunk every weekend.

Putting your cans in the recycling.

Like you care.

Sharing your cousin's food pics.

Like you care.

Blanking your mother's calls

and wondering why your kids never visit.

The hell is your plan

when time is called

and it turns out it wasn't all for nothing?

When it turns out that

this sprawling, magnificent,

confusing, beatiful world.

Was a place to live.

Not exist and check out.

You gonna ask for a refund?

Injury time? Best of three?

You dope.