With a mind that uses odd percentages,
I orgasm to the memory of a
Fake smile I pulled off during
Today’s therapy session.

She just seemed sure that
I did not like my demon.
Her wish fathered that thought;
I just turned her on.

Hilarious much!

The way I caricature the memory
Is too obscene for a heart that young.
If you knew her heart you’d
Call me a pedophile.

She is my favorite
Of all my therapists.
Yes, father blackmailed me into
Having one for each demon.

Seriocomical much!

With a mind that uses odd percentages,
I rack over the next memory of today.
I smile to myself.
It’s the same smile from my therapy.

Maybe that smile was sincere.
Maybe I do not like my demon.
Maybe it’s time for exorcism.
Let me get Mike Posner’s album.

Sorry if I poisoned your soul.

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