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What the Fuck Do I Do With This Hot Chocolate?

The moon

The moon,
The sun
The sun, the moon
Press mute
Succumb
Doomed, doomed, doomed
I’m doomed.
We’re done
Who, who, who Are you?
Who are we?
What are we?
Collusion
Contusions.
So very meek
You’re a cup of hot chocolate
On the fiercest winter morning
Feel the blisters forming
Whistle through the windows
Pixelating percentage
Whistling.
Cold air Whistling Dixie
Through the windows
It’s snowing.
Frost on the glass
Particle splat
Icicles look like Christmas ornaments
Your silence
Makes me question myself
I was too human
Too human. Too human
Too goddamn human.
Too.
Human.

(Everywhere I put a period is a moment in the story where I teared up and cried.)

..
.

I regret,
maybe I should’ve danced
That one time
That one time
Maybe that would’ve changed something
That one time that
One
time
Hot chocolate, woman, cup
God damn it.
Open up
Do I remain robotic?
Or do I remain human?
Robot.
Beep
boop
Robust.
Beep boop
My safe full of cold guns
Beep boop.

What do I do with you?

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