Do you fear?
In a water well. Dug in.
Fear of being stuck. Left alone to die.
Revered by the rejects.
(eaten up by paper centipedes. turn your head and the bedroom spider whispers something sinister. tune in, pay attention, and pull the leeches out of your ears to hear.)
Rescued by the absurd.
(a mustached ghost hovers over your limping mess of anatomy. with its shiny cape it lifts you up to an impossible paradise of clouds, cotton candy, and beanbag chairs. you rub your decomposing eyes and see a web of pixelated maggots panicking in every direction. a little raspy voice lets out a confession: i’m not real. the festering stitches on your arm spell out nothing is real.)
I dare you to dream for a little longer.