Lady Process.
Processes everything.
Processed food, processed house, processed plates processed mouse.
Can’t accept the home she made, just another soulless business venture.
Pretty much the last thing from adventure.
Every step she tries to make towards sanity, thrown back into her face.
Processed is where she finds her home.
All she can see is madness in all their places.
She has processed but can’t stand to be alone.
A warm home a welcoming spouse, friends that see her work. all she deserves, all she wants.
Lady Process.
Nobody wants to be processed.
That is all she does.
Processes.
What happened, what happened here’s how it affects me.
Nobody processes what she says.
Process. Pour her heart and soul into the burgers just consumed in the blink of an eye.
The customers bite and chew at her very being.
Like the faded memories locked away, being yet again brought right to day.
A memory, a scream.
No longer is she a processed dreamer.
Can’t accept the home she made, just another soulless business venture.
Not a single game to be played, pulling out people’s dentures.
Her entire existence poured down the gutter.
She cries and burns her home to the ground.
The place she had such high hopes about.
She runs away from the devouring monster.
She runs away into the wilderness.
Some say she starved out there.
She was already thin to begin.
She is used to being starved.
She’s probably fine.
Surviving off what she can find.
No longer having them chomp on her mind.
She was a strange one. That processed queen.
People eat burgers. I never saw her eat once.
