Plastic Surgery

It's a weird feeling
realizing you're not who you used to be anymore
Time: the cosmetic surgeon of the soul

Nipping here, tucking there
changing who you are.

Denny's is the oddest place to make self-realizations.
But sitting around a table
with a friend you knew from highschool
can do that to you.

How's it been?
Great, you?

If cliché was a razor,
this conversation would be a scalpel.
The words came out sterile O.R. doctors and the nod/nurses prepped the table for the operation.

How's work?
Not working.
Beep. Beep.
The heartbeat of your old friendship still in good shape at this point.
Never did like working, did he?
Game design school was his calling
games were his life.

How about School?
Withdrew.

Beep Beep. Beep Beep.
More nod/nurses enter the room,
needed to stop the bleeding
issuing forth out of the gash that appeared in the heart.

Oh? Whatcha doin then?
Nothing really.

BeepBeepBeepBeepBeep.
Apathy and sanctimony nearing dangerous levels
When we parted ways I figured you'd grow
get a job, go to school, get some meat on your two dimensional bones

Nothing?
Yeah.
Well, are you going to go back to school later?
Prolly not.
Well, what are your plans?
Don't have any.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
The doctors leave, the nurses shake their heads
and the life of our friendship
is snuffed.

Cause of death:
Cardiac arrest
caused by
stagnant blood.