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NO EXIT ❋ EE Jarvie

on the deep web searching for an exit
has anyone seen an exit

trapdoor beneath
god’s bathtub

picture this: i’m on hold with customer service
standing on the never-ending escalator
in the super mall of my mind
trying to find an exit
about to crawl over the railing and jump ship
mall security is like: no, stop
I’m free-dangling laughing haha stop me fuckers
mall security goes and gets a ladder and takes my ass down
i’m crying little ass wailing for an exit
wailing frisk me for an exit
put the key in my hand and I’ll go

frisk religion for an exit
or whatever DMT does

frisk my brainbank for the conscience they’ve forgotten
decriminalize the correlation between my wish gland and genderbone

who’s haunting your hmo
who haunts the house of the deciders
the house of the deciders that gave us Jennifer
who “to teach us a lesson” tricked us into being friends with Bryan

hypochondriac Bryan
crying to get the need sucked out him

sad bad Bryan wants his boy torn out
Bryan i don’t tear boys anymore
‘terra incognita’
tattooed inside my tenderbone
Bryan missed mass again
Bryan lost muscle
the thin air
of his oh-so vulnerability

fragile Bryan
sings his porcelain concession
pollutes the creamy profit radio
greases the listen-lobes of the proletariat
celebrities are just like us

we eat the new trend food
we are always eating what’s trending
we have a couple options disguised as choices
we comment: “choice looks good on you”
on one another’s pictures
when enough people say that same thing to us
we believe them

umm fyi your holy holy spirituality
inherited the same fake-apology pathology
of your “fucking republican” parents Bryan

[and it continues that

wasting one’s life

seems shockingly inevitable]


i’m sleep gritting my teeth
emotional cruise control
while Bryan wails his dick pity
it’s his party he can cry if he wants to
appropriates a knowledge of loss
laments what i miscarried
what i could’ve then suddenly couldn’t
aestheticize what my blood makes me be
am i trending yet
slitting my highest-traffic content
spilling it all on the floor
for Bryan to dance in

sing me pretty Bryan
twist my tongue into origami
a doorway out of folded paper I might escape thru

i could almost love Jennifer in his shadow
little fit-bit zombie
algorithm-produced prescription
for what empowerment should be
bb Jennifer what’s your juice made of?
@jennifer omg what’s yr rising sign?
thousands of perfect little squares of Jennifer
and taylor and lily and Olivia
faces that don’t look for exits because they don’t need them
captions that read “I feel your pain” but are too busy
feeling “so helpless” to do anything about it
I get sick just imagining
the ease of un-otherness

i want to stroke the hairy leg of her #feminism

paint it with the eyes ripped out
penalize the caloric content of her quick-fix slogans
a diet that’s to die for
oh this is what a feminist looks like !


im online

there’s no exit