Here’s your advisory,
Aim it in the bin’s trajectory
If you’ve already heard it
(But best not spurn it it):

I sat on a wall,
The wall was very tall,
Next thing I knew,
I fell.
With no notice at all,
(No one noticed)
All the way to hell!
Up and down
And back again.
What’s left? A few shreds
Who need a modest
Length of thread.

Can ANYBODY mend me
Back-to-whole again?
I didn’t even know
I leaked before;
I don’t know what
I’m crying for;
The thread!
Yes, the thread!
There isn’t time to waste!
I taste blood, and
Blood wants Me more;
It won’t stop until it’s fed,
I can’t think with either head.
And why must I
Constantly beg for food?
Is it simply because
I’ve been refused?
I don’t know: I’m

I’m flying low in mile-high garbage,
Rotting in trite Cheetos and
Other Non-Rot Packaged Goods.
It’s a particularly nasty hell
With a particularly nasty smell.
And this poetic shit holds no clout;
All my screams fall on mute ears,
But here’s the part
I CAN make out:

If you don’t help ME out,
I’ll pretend I don’t see YOU,
When YOU fall only to find
Yourself a heap on
This Hell’s floor,
All alone
And Rotting, too
Just you and you,
And me and me
Broken and rotting
For eternity.

Welcome, why’d it take so long?
You’ve always known
This hell, This home,
This is where you belong,
Filled with dread and anxiety,
Weeping right beside me,
Finally free to hide me,
To cover my shreds in shade;
I’m in need of a sheltering place
To cover my bits and my pieces,
And usher the floods of Relief in.

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