So my elderly mother
who I am taking care of
was in bed
for a month or so
and she yelled to me
that she had to go
to the bathroom
but she couldn't stand up
so she told me to change
her protective underwear
and when I did
I saw that she
was covered with black diarrhea
so I cleaned it off
as best I could
and she tried to stand up
but collapsed on the floor
so I called 911
and the men came
I am sweating on this silent throne,
Cold is my sweating double lump, my butt-ox.
Dripping sopping is my hole, wet for you, my boo.
PLUMP! SHPLOOP! SQUISH!
That is my plural drip, my dipping turd flow, Niagara.
Ookatini flip, my pencil fell in.
Fish it out with my hand.
Ooh, Telpavin. Time out time, sitting on the toiley.
There is no doiley to conceal this mess. Ten sixteen.
I'm not even wiping yet.
My dad comes in from working the steel mill. He needs the can.
I wiped for hours.
Then I pooped again.
Like an elephant.
I need a colostomy bag.
Diarrhea Boom part 5
the necessity of
Having A Purpose
is totally something
created entirely by humans.
BUT SERIOUSLY THOUGH.
why the fuck is there life?
and of all the godawful things to thrive on Earth
why did it have to be
so full of vice
(and distinctly lacking in spice and/or anything nice)?
it's funny that we portray aliens
as if we are the best thing to happen to evolution;
not with the fact that our wombs are horribly placed to serve their purpose, we aren't.
(not to mention
complete lack of badass self-defensive features).
in the great scheme of the universe
who even cares where we go after death?
is better and worse
Eating bad Taco Bell...
not knowing that fart's a shit.
I was burning the midnight oil. There was not a candle in front of me. Just lights that never wavered. I was wondering what the night might hold. I heard the clock and chimes as the cold wind blew into my house. The bells belonged to my neighbours. I did not sleep a wink that night.
I don't remember what happened two days ago, but I was glad my mind was too tired to overthink. I fell asleep early that night to music I liked.
I had the urge to destroy myself in the evening but a friend brought a smile to my face just in time. She didn't know. I don't know if I was grateful that she foiled my plans. I thought that the worst place to ever be was between ok and not ok. Sometimes I don't know who I am anymore. Sometimes I feel accomplished just by deciding which way to walk so I wouldn't run into the person walking in front of me. Sometimes I rather not have a family and I can't recall the reason why. I hate the me I do not know, my mind is revolting. I am in this by myself, no one is as hateful as me. I lose my thoughts a lot because my mind never stops running and searching for the scattered pieces. I don't fancy the idea that being emotionally unstable is now a personality trait. I used to show my anger to everyone but not anymore. I just want to be alone and write and write and write and write. Funny how a week ago I was too numb to feel a thing. I couldn't feel and I couldn't write and I did not feel alive. Then there's a sudden realisation that there is so many people around me, I do not fancy this idea. I did not have the intention to get better. I still watch everyone like a hawk, and I realised sadness makes you forget things. I was late for school today. I promised a teacher I will never be late again. I hope I keep my promise.
It's night time now and I am thinking about how I used to wonder how it will feel to step out onto the road and crash head on headlights. I travelled to an old friend's house to lend her a chemistry textbook. She still sounds the same and I missed how we used to laugh together. I passed by the market and remembered how my mum used to prop groceries in the pram and leave me to my own tiny feet. I forgot if I preferred walking, or my mum pushing me on the wheels. I remember how I wanted to leave this place, now I am just afraid I might have nothing to look back on. Sometimes when it rains, I want to go outside. I haven't been out getting close and getting hurt and I wonder if that's a good thing. I have thoughts that replaced regrets and devastation, but it still leads to nowhere. I was thinking, maybe I've suffered long enough to know that things will be okay.
It's been a few days and I still do not know whether to eat blueberries or strawberries. I did not notice the sidewalk cracking. I wonder if I have recovered because I am back to where I started. If you insist, label me as someone who was too "lazy" to get better. They say to never let anything be your happiness because they can be taken away, but I don't think I ever knew what makes me happy. My dad finally got a sofa today but I liked the feeling of my back against the ground. I get affected so easily, little things change me and I can't recall a time I was ever me. I'm not sure how long I will stay awake tonight. I realised you don't always need a knife to- I am indefinite.