Rapunzel This

From my high tower,
I watch you, pawns.
Tiny matter pieced
together like Autism
Awareness.

You’re all blades
of grass, my shoeboxes
next to me filled
with memories
existent in our minds.
You’ve lost them.

They are all in graves
next to my memories
of dead breaths,
memories of my
dead relatives.

We’re all relatives
anyway. Somehow
it has become cool
to forget the people
from the past.

Now has consumed
the world, and memories
are merely you’s left
living, left prancing
with idiocy.

I was a dull stupid girl;
you were a dull stupid
boy, and now, we are
still dull stupid entities
in comparable time.

Someone bring me
a tall beer in my tower.
Shoot it to me like
a bank drive-thru.
I’ll sign off on it.