An Ode to my Windowsill from Hell (5.18.17)

Worms,

Oh windowsill, you fire fuck

I never know when you’ll heat up

You kill my candles, yet spare the wick

Look at all the damage you afflict.

Oh windowsill, you fire fuck

A sunny day, just my luck

You bleach my papers, you melt my clock

I have faith you could melt a fucking rock.

Oh windowsill, you fire fuck

Bleached out curtains I have to chuck

All my life, I’ve lived with you

Yet, if you could, you would melt me too.

Oh windowsill, you fire fuck

As I get your victims unstuck

Somehow you have killed my cactus

And I am left with no explanation for this. -It is used to the fucking desert. Somebody help me. Rip my cactus friend.

In loving memory of Helga, she died so young. May she live on in hell, where it is cooler than my lava windowsill. (I just spent way to long looking for a pic of Helga when she was alive and forgot this post is a joke)(here is a pic of one of Helga’s distant relatives I found on google images) RIP.

-Alli