I used to have centipede legs
for eyelashes.
The FBI transplanted my ankles,
put rocks there
instead.
My guardian angel was manufactured
by Boeing.
But now I’ve learned
God’s just like us.
He was lonely,
needed validation.
Proof of himself.
He wouldn’t exist
if we weren’t here to believe he does.
There’s no telling how much
one scale weighs
without another.
Ever try reading a flashlight’s name
brand in the dark?
That’s how I know they’ve been
painting my walls
every chance they get—
This room keeps getting smaller.
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