Obligations, and How to Escape Them

I left the heater on with the door open.
It screamed at me with its opened mouth,
Its opened mouth, a feature of the 30 dollar
Plastic ring upgrade, separating itself
From the competitors with its enhanced airflow
Capacity–enhanced screaming-at-me
Capacity–the wails of the quasi-dimensional prophecy
Of an ominous electrical bill

But my legs turned jelly in the compression of a blanket
Like eel jelly, a fish trapped in the water
Of its own Gelatinous fat. Fat seeps to the top
And hardens, preventing movement
Like the stock on my moms fish soup

So I fought the screams
Another voice in the cache of random babbling.
I can’t wait to go to sleep.
Silence is hectic in the dark but my blanket muffles
Sound, and it's fun being so popular.
I can pit it against the voice of hacked childrens videos
That gouged peppa pig’s eyes out and replaced
It with my worldview–the reigning champion
Tuesday’s schizophrenic battle arenas