**** Mucus

The alternative man liked an **** massage

Getting his sphincter muscle lovingly relaxed

This allowed his **** mucus to flow with love

Every time he took a dump in the royal throne room

Pushing a curly big **** with S turns in it out

Plopping into the bowl like a fish back in a pond

The masseur did the best **** massage

It was only money and it all got soothed

Green enjoying his ******* massage

Making sure he produced mucus to ****

That and regular sphincter muscle work outs

With a ******* ***** and American *******

and in the 12th my teacher grade tenderly grabbed my wrist
and said
what is this
and
I said
me
But
that was the wrong answer
he wanted me to say
my —-wrist
he wanted me to say my
MINE

He wanted me to take ownership
of my body
he wanted to acknowledge
Or
He wanted me to acknowledge
that I was
An inside
of a body
And
Not a body
He wanted
Me to think what I just
“mistakenly”
called “me” was just a vessel
To hold “me”
That is it was lent to me and would return
from whence it came
that I was barely or merely or some other kind of “erely” visiting
and
that me and mine were different when it came to body

Such a kindness and autono-motive restoration to remind a person that they are
More
That they are not their looks
or their actions
Or even potential ambulation
I know what he offered me was a kindness

I declined
I said no in my own way
If you’re wondering
What I said was “you are what you eat”

I still don’t know what I meant
If I meant

and I’ll ozymandius myself
If I claim to be more than this

I am crumbling, but I will stand tall on these broken feet

As soon as I can fix my posture

I want to get home so that I can sleep for 17 hours with my mouth hung open so wide you’d mistake it for a black vortex where planes and people and boats and Ameillia Earharts go mysteriously missing and it petrifies the **** out of you that these things exist on this planet if you think about it for too long your eyes beady and blending into the dark of your bedroom or I want to jump out of my window and die or run up and down the four flights of stairs in my ****** apartment complex until I feel the muscles and tendons and ****** pink strings in the meat of my thick thighs burn and come to life and the fat rupture and break apart beneath my skin, or maybe I can just run a regular marathon but that’s so ******* boring that I would rather gouge out hollows between my ribs with a spoon because why the **** would I want to run in a straight line, I want to run up and down and zig and zag and left and right and upside-down and on my head and with my legs ******* behind my back and at the speed of light like the energy-never-dies organism that I am, all that I am really comprised of, the bare bones of what this body is broken down into in actuality, except I swear to ******* God I better die one day

Spring-fresh portent
Drowning broods
Eight droplets
Valued over an ocean

Sky, painting humour
Bristles shed resemble
Trembling shade
Mirrors facing one another

A lot of rain
Just as well
We don’t control the waters
     surrounding our borders
Or the ones inside us when
They break
​             and spill forth
​​                                  in regret

But at least we have Kodaline.

The thirsty fall
The swelling fret
They can mean worlds

Deep…
I’m sinking in the dark
The world is upside down
Just the way it should be
I’m taken in by warm skies
And the clouds are tangible

The steep curves of slopes
I climbed crawling
Your breath, the gust
That turned my world over

To reach the rain
I danced on skin
Trenching spells
Caressed soft soil
To split for me a sea of thighs
So I could go the distance
Where We end up as God

I cheated again
For a change
It was for me
Didn't know
It will come with
Hard feelings
For other
Neither expected
Said she
Falling tears
From both of their
Eyes
I wz numb
Didn't feel
Nothing just
Heartbeat banging me
Inside
Hanging tears from
Her eyes
Rainy day
It was
Everyone running
Around
I can't move
Lots of weight
On me
I hold tightly
To that pain
Didn't set it free !