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Iced In I am almost certain this house is shrinking I have begun to watch heavy mouth breathers as if they were mine canaries And have duct taped down the stove tops so that no Cabbage or Salmon or other viscous pungency invades what’s left of my senses Last night I slept on the couch for a change of scenery in which to dream My dreams have become complacent I wish they contained urges like mine I feel they hold to investment in my desires My longings are being held hostage by a man in a boring brown suit who would never dare try and pull off a black fedora He can only move me By a rope and pulley system It feels unnatural Without the odd pleasures of the surreal This environment suffocates my ability to self stimulate My imagination bounces off of four grey walls who’s ugliness is approaching like a step sister She creeps towards me and scuffs her shoes She breathes heavily and I eyeball her impending fall Surely this storm will be the bounce house death of me By body splayed out in an un natural position to chalk around on rainbow colored parachute fabric I hope I allow the look on my face to say it all
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Feb 18, 2021
Feb 18, 2021 at 2:22 PM UTC
Iced In
Iced In I am almost certain this house is shrinking I have begun to watch heavy mouth breathers as if they were mine canaries And have duct taped down the stove tops so that no Cabbage or Salmon or other viscous pungency invades what’s left of my senses Last night I slept on the couch for a change of scenery in which to dream My dreams have become complacent I wish they contained urges like mine I feel they hold to investment in my desires My longings are being held hostage by a man in a boring brown suit who would never dare try and pull off a black fedora He can only move me By a rope and pulley system It feels unnatural Without the odd pleasures of the surreal This environment suffocates my ability to self stimulate My imagination bounces off of four grey walls who’s ugliness is approaching like a step sister She creeps towards me and scuffs her shoes She breathes heavily and I eyeball her impending fall Surely this storm will be the bounce house death of me By body splayed out in an un natural position to chalk around on rainbow colored parachute fabric I hope I allow the look on my face to say it all
BonanzaCherry
Written by
46/F/Arkansas, USA
Feb 18, 2021
Feb 18, 2021 at 2:22 PM UTC
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