I can’t be the only one who tells themselves that their closet is completely fine and organized despite it’s irrefutable appearance. Or say all the household chores can be delayed until next weekend. And definitely not the only one who says “This’ll be my last cookie, I swear.”
Aw shucks, it’s just life. Why don’t we just pick up our buckets and paint the street red? Click our ruby-red shoes and wish for home. Better yet sing our way to freedom like any other starlet of a Disney film. The world is your stage – so I’ve been told from some literary figure. So pretty, your darn ghoulish masks. But ‘a plague, on both your houses.’
S’ a madman speaking, with the most lucid mind.
Metaphors anyone? Perhaps a cup of white oleander for good measure.
“my gas tanks marked FULL .”
I give them back to you, your own little slaves. Oh my god, they’re in revolt. It’s Spartacus, Rome is burning.” – Janet Fitch
Mommy, I made a mess…but let’s call it art.