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It’s gray and it’s me I’m a transparent manatee stretching at the seams Covered in fat, shiny leaves that turn upside down Strike me with a boulder and pop my skull open Like a balloon filled with tears and lotion Bury me naked in a closed casket With heaps and heaps of violets I used to be told that I carry the burden well Sometimes I look at the animal and try to identify it Other species’ features float through my mind and once a month I see a resemblance But nothing really classifies me for long What’s the point in cooking the way you always wanted to cook If even to you it tastes sort of bland
0
Aug 24, 2025
Aug 24, 2025 at 7:26 PM UTC
Lord Under
It’s gray and it’s me I’m a transparent manatee stretching at the seams Covered in fat, shiny leaves that turn upside down Strike me with a boulder and pop my skull open Like a balloon filled with tears and lotion Bury me naked in a closed casket With heaps and heaps of violets I used to be told that I carry the burden well Sometimes I look at the animal and try to identify it Other species’ features float through my mind and once a month I see a resemblance But nothing really classifies me for long What’s the point in cooking the way you always wanted to cook If even to you it tastes sort of bland
forcesofhabit
Written by
21/Cisgender Male/San Jose
Aug 24, 2025
Aug 24, 2025 at 7:26 PM UTC
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