Pull it in my guft.
Pull it out my guft.
My guft needs some extraction.
Interaction.
Squash a butternuft and do it rough.
In my guft.

Floppy worms taking doopy turns.
Now it's stuck.
In my guft.
Pull it out.

Diarrhea boom...
FLERRRRRRRK!!!!
I am sweating on this silent throne,
Cold is my sweating double lump, my ****-ox.
Dripping sopping is my hole, wet for you, my boo.
PLUMP!  SHPLOOP!  SQUISH!
UHN! UWAAAAAH!
That is my plural drip, my dipping **** 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.
3 A.M.
7 A.M.
I'm not even wiping yet.
My dad comes in from working the steel mill.  He needs the can.
I cannot.
Offer him.
It.
I wiped for hours.
Then I pooped again.
Like an elephant.
I need a colostomy bag.
Diarrhea Boom part 5

P
  O
    O
   P

I
S

W
   E
     T
        ...?

A broken heart isn't to be dreaded.
Not when the tender lobe of your ******* sway divine in the silky wind.
A fresh caress of your velvet brow, undercropping my twisted heart.
Let not the heart grow weary, for it isn't a bug that is crushed 'neath booted foot.

Because I cannot stray from you,
Ever bound to your tide,
And never to have you again kills me,
Don't act like you don't know me,
Silent destruction is in and of me.

On my right eye I lost the glob.
Give it back.
I need it to snack on the sack.
You do.
Me do.
Are doo.
Put on your shirt.
Rub me in the dirt.
Wash my face with your glove.

There ain't no more tame
And there ain't no game
Mario was my main man.
Now he is just lame.
I am new to this main.
For this ain't the same.
I miss the T Dubz.
For he now has changed.
He's not the same guy.
That we used to love.
For he has chilled elsewhere.
Our life is different.
Cause he as changed.
I'm no longer T Dubz.
Don't call me that.

Today I took a stroll.
I found a dusty beard and I knew it would suit my face.
Now this beard I cannot erase.
News gribble.
When I sleep, on my beard I dribble.

Some days I wish my beard would melt away.
But usually, I accept that on my face the beard will stay.
Quirt on the squirt. Squirt it off.
That's all it took. Now it's gone. Oh floff my toff!
Now I am nothing but a beardless face.