Give me the eye now and I can have it back to you by 1900, 2200 tops

The choices limited
Fragments of brainiac material have already started to become leakage
Drip, drip and dripping away
Don’t slip on your head juice, Mr
Some baby’s just waiting to laugh at your misfortune

Yes, you must fix my eye

He, the mister quite bitter slithers hither
His belly is chafed beyond any semblance of belief
This is a general gripe amongst the populace
Gooey matter designed to alleviate the problem is simply not good enough
They broadcast their neatly wrapped thought packages to the information centres every day to relay the failure of the gooey matter
Some genius has to come up with something better or they will never stop complaining
Never stop thinking
Give them new matter, better to protect a gut with

This preoccupies his thought package
In the darkness of eyeless transit
The gaping hole in his face decorated by a flimsy sheath

Got to get home to the warm glow

The landscape inhales electrical shockwaves
Dotted by damp squids and prattling overlords
Here is where you have to buy nausea
Lay down cold hard currency for simulated emotions
This crud caked celestial body needs the energy
The symphonies of thought packages
Bursting forth and enabling the mass to dangle from thin threads attached to the roof above
The roof of everything, so high up that it has no ending
Swinging along gently then at once with much violent urgency
This home cannot be relied upon for predictable serenity

If only my belly would stop hurting
Oh and my eye
Need it back to start exerting
The essence of my thoughts
So that my home may continue to live

The aching journey nears its end
He comes home

Deep cavern inside the mass
Downward spiralling ever deeper with ruthless precision
He reaches
The gooey matter must be washed away with acrylic
So as not to leave more plump scars on an undercarriage already used to haemorrhage
He is home within home

1900, 2200 tops
Then the eye can be reinserted
The brain juice saved from being squirted
Off in every direction
Slipped upon
So that no baby can laugh at his misfortune

I need the eye or that’s it
Please warm glow
Glow on me

The light obliged
Toasting his insides
Scorching the scales
Blackening his self-awareness
Soot and heat in a cacophony of slow-burn ecstasy

The skin shed itself like every night before for 34 clicks
It unwrapped itself
Dried blood and dried guts moved aside
And from there where he always hides
He emerged

The man from within the creature’s body

His nude frame was bristling with shivers of pain
As the light dimmed to nothingness
He stood upright in the lair
Savouring every second of not having to slither like the beast he must be
Walking tall like man
The forgotten species

Somehow, the mass doesn’t know what I am
The mass must approve of my deception somehow
As long as the thought packages reach their destination
The mass will never hurt me

The man must think for himself
It’s all he really has left
To remind him of what he truly is

Yes, need to fetch the eye at 1900, 2200 tops

Note to self

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