Have you ever seen your breakup At the bottom Of a toilet bowl
Last night i treated myself To a three-course meal Of mustard, spit, and toilet water splashback
Have you ever reached into the back Of your throat with spider fingers Digging for the right language To communicate your pain Spoiler alert: you wonβt find it down there
But you will find: Thick mucus Strings of blood Nail polish chips And stripped knuckle-skin
And every time you pummel your four longest fingers Back-and-forth against the back of your gag reflex Youβll be pushing yourself deeper Into the grave that nobody knew you were digging