I wish you a life of mild inconvenience -
I pray for that bug on the windshield,
Never-ending mildly runny nose,
Keys locked in the car kind of life for you.
I pray nothing that bad happens to you and nothing that good happens either. Like
I hope you only meet guys who wanna fuck you, not fix you.
I hope you buy a faulty phone charger;
I hope your favorite shirt gets larger;
I hope you see all the others chasing dreams while you wait for Friday each week and
I hope you resent your ugly, selfish children for what they did to your body.
I hope you end up on your death bed with the most mediocre look on your face, the most uninteresting last words spilling from your mouth, an insignificant life behind you and a forgettable death before you, I hope you realize this as it's happening.
I hope there's always one more step than you expect I hope
You take enough pain to make you cringe but not enough to learn from I hope you think
Inside that box. I wish you your own foot in your own mouth in public too many times to count.
And perhaps your life time of inconvenience,
Stretched out way too long like a piece of pink bubblegum
In a 4th grader's mouth,
Might just equal out to the amount of direct, immediate, live, in-color pain I felt in that one moment on the porch last summer.
