Can you feel it? How your blood vibrates through your veins?
that little push in your neck, that seems to never go away
Do you hear it? The deafening silence that lives inside your head?
how things shift into another in front of your eyes.
Can you see it? The weight of the choices you've made?
falling in front of you piece by piece.

The truth is.
I'm not even sure
if I love you
or just long for you.

If what I'm feeling.
is called
love
or pain.

Honestly,
when I think of you
my stomach
doesn't feel
a thousand butterflies
but
a thousand knives
piercing
into my soul.

I'm not sure
if I'm afraid of letting you go
because I love you more than anything.
or just because I don't know how to live
with all this pain.

Oh Joy, Oh Great Heavens Above,
How I like to lingeringly slaver o'er
The fartleberries hanging humunguously
Out of your **** cleft like bunches of mouldering grapes,
And to gaze upon the lusciously stale shitstains
Decorating your hirsute ****-cheeks!
You so rarely wash and your dumps are omnipotent
And you are too mean to buy any **** wipes.

You moan quite loudly in colonic ecstacy
As I plumb the Stygian depths of your sit-upon place,
My nose diving daintily like a woodpecker's beak
Smeared with poo-bits, seeking Nirvana
In your ****** paradise, brown love-tunnel
Serenaded by the poets since Time began!
Nowhere in all the Hershey Universe can there be
A pongier rimmee than you, O unshaven beauty of mine!

My probing tongue is covered with nutty brown paste,
Your sweet excremental delight makes me drool
In joy, as I personhandle myself "down there";
Ignoring the most elemental rules of hygiene.
But sadly there is a fly in the ointment
Indeed a whole ******* barrelful of them:
Not only will I get a very nasty E-coli infection
But I'll have bad breath tomorrow at chapel.

Day 1: No, you're not gone. You're just busy. You're still mine.
Day 2: Why did you leave. I can't breathe. How could you do that?
Day 3: I'm okay.
Day 4: *******. I hate you. I hope I never speak to you or see you again.
Day 5: I love you.
Day 6: Please come back.
Day 7:  You're the biggest *******. You never deserved me.
Day 8: I miss you.
Day 9:  God, you hurt me so badly. Why do I still want you?
Day 10: I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.
Day 11: You promised me forever.
Day 12: I don't need you.
Day 13: I feel empty.
Day 14: I'm fine.


                              B.S.

I'm so sorry that I keep pushing you away.
My chest tightens at the thought of being in love.
I've been hurt so many **** times that it physically makes me sick to think about falling for someone again.
God, you mean so much to me, but I have no idea how to show it.
I'm scared.
Terrified for that matter.
I don't want to get hurt, but I don't want to lose you.
You make me happy, but I can't show you.
You make me feel again, but I won't tell you.
Because of you, I genuinely smile, but I won't let you see.
I just want to crawl under my covers and pretend I don't exist.
I don't want to fall for you.



                               B.S.

**** day freestyle nonsense


Light a candle and burn the canvas
as I take advantage of my madness
I'm about to knock the planet off of it's axis
just the facts, I dont preach what I practice

the high point, the max, the vastness
bad habits like a back sliding Baptist
hail Mary, masses like a catholic
fast to put a fanatic in a casket

pass the tray to the congregation
time to pay the raging Caucasian
no need to pray, just face the creation
as we embrace this greatest occasion