Core Work

It's about 2am
And we're annoying as hell
Laughing
Red-palm stamps on each of our backs
And gut splitting spit-takes
Are graphing in the excess on decibels
Brain cells dropping to decimals as we roll through the
Treasure trove of deep-internet memes
Forcing seams into corners of eyes and cramps
Into sides

Bumbling idiots
Vile baboons
We're smiling
Like we'd never done it before
But we'd have a tough bit of explaining to do if our neighbors
Ever came banging on doors

But that's how it goes
When you're punching your one-way ticket to hell
And the only ounce of silence
Is between clicks
Tear-wipes
And lungs yet to swell