I's stuffed with mouthfulls
stuck bombastic swabs back, silly tonsils
attract this kind of swelling
blood flow filling brash, crass
rusted filter engorged but not gorgeous.
Leaking, not porous. I'd fight for us
but you're the one fighting me.
So I stuff this all down from the surface.
It's worth it. You see,
argumentatively I concede to the truth.
You withhold resolute and spew weather.
I'm better. I hold it inside. Stuff it down,
bottle up all my thoughts and I swallow them
frothing and foaming in cheeks around teeth
gargle responses, apologize
but I's stuffed with this awful,
awful mouthful.