Break And Not bend, 2

 

science.nationalgeographic

Sometimes I think I need a thinner shell.

People–they say they bend, they break,

or either or but–sometimes I think that

all I would need, is a thinner shell.

 

I find that I get egged

on, so easily; if you turn me on–

if you turn me on–

you turn me on, I’ll never stop.

True story. Again and again and again.

True story. And I am not bragging.

 

Tell me I’m wrong, insult me, embarrass me;

advise me or even be nice to me; better yet

you can hurt me, or even yet you can tell me that

I’m hurting you–no matter–if you tell me that

I need to stop, you will only but egg me on.

 

The only times in which I stop are the only times

in which you break. I am a monster. I really am.

I am a monster. And I am not bragging.

 

I’ll egg my way through breakfast and lunch;

I’ll egg my day into the night;

I’ll egg my nights into the years.

I can, I have, I do and I am not bragging.

 

For what I strive

is come what may,

of expectations

I’ve but none;

anticipations yes

but expectations

I’ve but none.

And I am kind

of bragging; I was, just a bit;

sprinkled with ambivalence.

 

Because what I like, in life is a challenge, like,

finding brick walls and running into them until

they crumble. That is a good challenge.

 

I’d once read about a spider–a funnel-web of

some sort–highly venomous, highly primitive;

lives somewhere in Australia; they’d said that

if you spray it, with any killer, you will only but

make it angrier. I think that I am that spider.

And I am bragging. Because I love animals,

especially spiders, especially that spider.

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