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.