This isn’t a joke.
It’s more like staring a nightmare in the face
and knowing it’s about to haunt your dreams
for the next three weeks.
Try and laugh that shit off, Bubba.
Not exactly water
off a duck’s back.
an easy peasy piece of cake.
But when the walls start caving in around you
it’s better to just let them fall all at once
instead of wasting precious energy
trying to save your dignity in small doses.
Suck it up, take the fall, enter the abyss.
Welcome to chaos.
Hope you brought your big boy pants.
There is no time to taper off slowly.
There is no money with which to buy a reprieve.
There is no wine left for the blood to kiss.
There are no excuses remaining
that can help to shrug off responsibility any longer.
When you make a deal with the Devil
you better damn well believe
that at some point down the line
your half of the bargain will come due,
and that sleazy bastard
isn’t going to give a flying fuck
about your pitiful hurt feelings,
your brokenhearted emotions,
your frayed, torn neuron receptors, or
your stuttering attempts to try and buy
a few more days to come up with the cash.
The bill is due in full.
Pucker up, butter cup,
the bookie wants his pound of flesh.
Brace for impact
because the bookie carries blunt objects
for cases such as these.
Scott Thomas Outlar