Moth


This is Moth, Surprised?
This is the holes of a bacteria, Surprised?- Psych Professor

This is Lexapro, Surprised?- M.D.

No, I was actually going to bring it up.

The fountain is down the hall
past the bathroom -- people like to talk looking in the mirror.
The quick stopnchats are just as stale as the mold clinging to the carpet
lined with all of shellacked wood doors.
I used to like the riddle about two twins in front of two doors,
one was a good door, one was a bad door.
Ask questions of the twins -- one is truthful, one lies.
“If I asked the other twin which door leads to heaven, what would they choose?”
It was fun when there were two doors, and when I was twelve.
But even if just half of the doors are hell,
There are fifteen gates to hell on the way to the water fountain.
And half the time I say “what's up?”
You’re lying when you say you’re good.
And you’ll go to hell; I hope it’s with Milton’s satan.
Make me root for you.
I touch the tiny white pill to my tongue.
It slides off the sweat of my finger, clings to the dryness of my tongue.
I wait for my dad to make a joke about “hard to swallow pills,”
but he never does.

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