Needle dropped. I'll circumvent the child locks, the present tense, its muscles strained, I might kick off my floaties when the pool's already drained but I love my kennel. Tempted by my freedom but my penchant's valor rises with my dissapointment. My heart yawns, I self-destruct and then respawn. I've broken code I'll not repair, no heavy-handed mortal will convince me that I care, 'cause I love my kennel, tempted by my freedom but I'll stay in prision, futon-surfing nightmare swallow pouch of feeling oversized, footprints I don't recognize, my stomach curdles at the angles and the shape. Oh, what monsters make. Go to prison, don't die