Time is relative, you know, right?
Because I’m sitting here
Counting down the seconds in my head
“One minute remaining”
For a different face to appear
Under the same uninspiring curtain
There is a certain monologue
I am sure scripted down in the pages
Of some obscure pagan book
That insists on being repeated today
It all has to do with a certain ache
Brought about by a yet unknown ailment
Highlighted by the pleas of the leper
For the disease to be cured
In an impeccable manner
Even if unscrupulous
The millions of faces smile down and ask
“How are you feeling today?”
If I keep it by the book
I feel like shit and you should know that
Feel that
Tremble and bend just like me
Otherwise, I’m marking it a zero, dude
But I don’t
In a minute I’m off the rails
And some collar is being torn away
From a swaying neck
Or maybe it’s a collarbone
The truth gets hidden in between two
Grinding
Molars
Testament to my screaming, my decree
“It’s killing me you fucking moron!”
And it will all be in vein
Sclerosis, total vascular failure
Because the message will be relayed
To an ulterior god
Ordering that I must still wait, for diagnosis
Treatment
And completion of an unrecoverable pile
Of un-recyclable paperwork
