Genre: cocky, funny, hurt, life, personality, and sad
(Pseudo) Pseudo Assist
by Stephanie Kay
I keep telling people that they will be okay
and that’s fucking hilarious because I am
not okay, but here I am with a handful
of comfort that feels like gravy powder
and a fistful of verbal reassurance more like
a stick of salami after squeezing it, reddish
brown bits seeping between my fingers.
I’m holding these things out to people
saying Here, it’s fine! Take these things and
be okay! There’s tons of this stuff, look, I
have tons of it! When really I’ve been just
let out jail for shoplifting things I need
to make other people feel a little whole.
I don’t know, buddy, it’s all I’ve got, I say.
Rain or something falls into the gravy dust
and activates its liquid form, so now its
running down my arm and nobody wants
anything to do with it or me or my weird
hands of comfort food. Brush them off on
my pants and wash them separate from
everything else, trying to tell people you
can’t keep begging for rain and reach
for an umbrella.
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