Punchline Romance.
I may take more punches than I throw,
but that does not mean I’m weak.
1 note

you’re hired

What if we hung people upside down to dry,

like we do flowers,

what if when our hair fell out,

we collected it,

and put them into our bath tubs,

what if we brewed eyelashes like tea,

and we smelled the tops of heads,

like rosebuds.

I’d collect the fairest, and the most fragrant of people,

and put them in a glass structure that held them upright,

I’d water and feed them and watch them grown,

until I didn’t anymore,

until I forgot, or got bored,

and then I watched them slowly fade away,

I’d keep their dried cripple remains in a vase,

for days,


maybe months,

until it became too painful to see them day after day,

and then they’d be thrown out with the Sunday garbage,

and I’d look for more cheerful, beautiful, live ones to replace them.

What if we were replaced like flowers,

what then.

1 note

Rise and Shine Buddy!