Nice to see you.
Really.
It is.
Good.
To see you.
To hear you rustle the ground.
smell what you were eating for lunch
taste your sorrows
the salt
tastes like cat food to me.
I'm not mad
I'm just glad to see you safe.
Sad to see you go, of course, of course.
I hope that doesn't seem coarse, of course
everything sad runs its course, of corse
but no
Don't fall in love with a farmer.
You'll never surpass her horse.
Never enamor a catgirl.
You'll only eat tuna or worse.
..
no further questions.
Mad at this world of hard-backed chairs,
claw-footed,
unbending,
Impending toe stubs every time that I get up.
Bruises where love left me rained on to rust.
Beautiful blue maroon yellow half moons
on my rib cage
Many noons overhead have burned tunes in my head that I sung and I bled to commune with the dead at the tombstone I'm led to the old riverbed
still to this day
there's a hole in the ground where you bury a body and
a home in the sound of you carrying all my
unease.
Please
don't
get
up.
I am swiss cheese.
Pain floats through me
and onto the breeze.
I will sit and eat this plain tuna bowl
because I need to complete a macronutrient profile
I looked up on the internet
how to make this temple
a place where people will come to pray
and play
and stay for longer than
a fortnite
Tastes like freedom.
Tastes like kibbles.
There's a pretty lass next door
who tastes like tears
And the sound of a breeze blowing through a hole in my wall.
Without hole,
how finish bowl?
Frame hole.
New role.
A door, for the strays
A fine feast of fish.
Dinner is dished.
Dinner for kin.
Home again.
how will my family know when to come in
Apr 6, 2021
Apr 6, 2021 at 12:29 AM UTC
Nice to see you.
Really.
It is.
Good.
To see you.
To hear you rustle the ground.
smell what you were eating for lunch
taste your sorrows
the salt
tastes like cat food to me.
I'm not mad
I'm just glad to see you safe.
Sad to see you go, of course, of course.
I hope that doesn't seem coarse, of course
everything sad runs its course, of corse
but no
Don't fall in love with a farmer.
You'll never surpass her horse.
Never enamor a catgirl.
You'll only eat tuna or worse.
..
no further questions.
Mad at this world of hard-backed chairs,
claw-footed,
unbending,
Impending toe stubs every time that I get up.
Bruises where love left me rained on to rust.
Beautiful blue maroon yellow half moons
on my rib cage
Many noons overhead have burned tunes in my head that I sung and I bled to commune with the dead at the tombstone I'm led to the old riverbed
still to this day
there's a hole in the ground where you bury a body and
a home in the sound of you carrying all my
unease.
Please
don't
get
up.
I am swiss cheese.
Pain floats through me
and onto the breeze.
I will sit and eat this plain tuna bowl
because I need to complete a macronutrient profile
I looked up on the internet
how to make this temple
a place where people will come to pray
and play
and stay for longer than
a fortnite
Tastes like freedom.
Tastes like kibbles.
There's a pretty lass next door
who tastes like tears
And the sound of a breeze blowing through a hole in my wall.
Without hole,
how finish bowl?
Frame hole.
New role.
A door, for the strays
A fine feast of fish.
Dinner is dished.
Dinner for kin.
Home again.
how will my family know when to come in
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