Damn you, papercut, Monday evening stupid stuff;
You're a burn but a laceration, you stupid papercut -
Now I'll be sucking at the skin between finger and thumb,
to stem the flow of copper-tasting blood,
you stupid papercut.
And the insult to the injury is the paperwork
now slightly spattered with my DNA, unwillingly donated,
done on a day I requested not to work
my stupid dumb stomach freaking hurts,
and I've only eaten a sandwich and one serving of cereal
since Saturday's epic event of throwing up three previous meals.
Damn you, papercut, Monday evening stupid stuff;
and I can't tell if this ache in my belly is nausea
or hunger or stress or...oh frick...my phone is ringing.
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