What is it we are running from
if not the hatred we see
in one another’s eyes?
What is it we are dying from
if not the weapons we wield
against one another?
Save me, sell me,
make me into something,
someone else,
I will be anyone for you,
anyone but this,
anyone but me.
About Catastrophe Jones
Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.