cutting atopos

too impotent to create but not to produce, the surrealist cheerleader, or sass-squatch,
is an anti-existence
she is atopos materializing,
the side-lines exalting
to the sound of cold meat slapping against the walls.
she is a sentient advertisement
who thought the orphanage was a refrigerator
not a place full of bare-legged teenage girls,
like herself and all in her likeness
is her highness!
She is maybe the inability to distinguish the like from the like?
sirens singing: “to exist is to persist”
in likeness"quantity has its own quality"
shaven pins marching in uniformity.
the frustration of noise!
hides me in unsafe-safety
for if you are like wallpaper you too will peel away when it rains
just like her.
so lets make the cut:

pins in the head...to keep it together?

oh, don't worry about her. she is just sharpness.

and helps cut you out of...

this dream...

and into a yellow ribbon of atopos likeness...