Gonna Give Myself a Good Talking To by Nick Cooke

You really are way over the line, man.

You know that, don’t you?

 

You really need to get it checked out now.

I’m telling you straight.

 

Take it from me, I seen this happen before

and it ain’t pretty.

 

First thing, you’re making the odd weird comment.

Then the next minute

 

or day or week or month or whenever

you’re making no sense.

 

It’s called losing contact with reality

but it can be stopped

 

as long as it’s recognised and accepted

and yeah there’s the rub

 

cos if you let the fucker drift too far

it’s like any other

 

creeping, disseminating, leaching

insinuating

 

invisible bacterial serpent

its eggs in your brain

 

its tongue flicking its way through your vein-juice

unseen by your folks

 

who continue to pretend that they think

you’re just a little

 

what, kooky, eccentric, going

a bit off the rails?

 

Didn’t you tell me you wanted them dead

or was that just me?

 

I don’t think it was just me, was it? It

wasn’t just me, right?

 

You really need to get it checked out. Now.

I’m telling you. Straight.

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