Dearly departed,
Pray for me
In life I still need to excrete
Not only faeces but thoughts
Just like food in my mouth
I chew possible sounds
Until they are… reproduced
I think
What I thought was art
Is now a bit bitter on my tongue
The saliva must be tainted
With odours I’ve inhaled
Because this ******* I taste
Is too flavoursome
I know this isn’t appealing
But neither is the finished product
Unwrap what you can
Of what we toss down to you
And swallow what you think is sweetest
You know it will all be… sour
I think
What I thought was lasting flavour
Turned out to be flesh
And even as I write this
I feel the unpicked hair in my teeth
So that when I create
I am secretly painting in words
From the inside out
I am closer to you in this way
But in that way-
Not so much.

Dearly departed,
Pray for us
In life we must run to you
But in living we must wait
Amongst the rotting peels
We left in our backpacks
For too long
We’ve learned to speak
About the smell
But in doing so our breaths
Stink up the air
And our legs are getting stiff
Sitting cross legged and festering thoughts
Bubbling images we wanted
To forget
God, this is a witch’s ***
But she forgets to stir it on hot days
And we decay
Faster than you do, I swear
The curses don’t become me
I know, the curses
Must be me and them.

Dearly, Departed,
Pray, and still listening
I’m sorry about the foulness of everything.

Stink bugs sit on the toilet seat

Their fat bodies hide in the shadow cast by a bar of soap

Thumping against the mirror, the light bulb

Hiding in cabinets

Waiting for me, dead on counters

Floating bloated.
Life aborted.
Rotting sockets.
A bobbing lifeless buoy.
where the river meets
the sewage.

To the man with the comb-over,
I resent you.
For the way you talk about women,
Speaking of us like property,
For taking away our choice,
Of if we want to conceive.

To the man with the loud mouth,
I ignore you.
For shooting down people’s words,
Putting a lock on their mouth,
And interrupting them with your nasally
“Wrong”.

To the man with the twisted morals,
I abhor you.
For the families pushed out of the country,
By the wall in your heart
And the one you want for your country.

To the man with all of the power,
I fear you.
For the lies you tell,
You reek of deceit.
For how you make war,
Or peace, if that’s what you want to call it.

Roanoke is like webbed toes; really weird but in a way that makes you wanna cough or throw up if you look too close

There’s a pile of orange cat ***** on the sofa
whose back has been stapled and thumb-tacked
onto the framework it’s, where it peeled.

There’s clumps of dog hair like dusty black clouds
clinging to the stairwell corners.  Dog *****, cat *****
and miscellaneous other stains splotch the gray carpet.

There’s windows coated in years of gunk.  There’s a child
whose life has been shattered and carries on with a
tablet.  Chickens roam and **** on the deck.  

I don’t emerge.  My room is half-painted, hot, and dark.
I don’t emerge from my cage.  Litter boxes overfilled out
there.  Hate out there.  The air is heavy and thick.

Feeling the fat upon myself, is a pain I'd always known
I look in the mirror and wish I could see my collarbones.
I want to be that girl who's thin and beautiful.
But instead I'm the one with big thighs and that's inexcusable.
I hope one day to be the skinny girl I know that's inside me.
The girl with her collarbones, everyone can see.

Oozing goozing syrup drips from you lips
It disgusts me
With each drip a lie unfolds
Your sugared teeth as yellow as corn.
Dripping, slipping, slurping.
Your smile disgusts me.
As the ooze starts to fall from you cheeks.
And I glance at that sick smile
I can feel my head spinning
My teeth aching from your sick twisted smile.

The sweetness is not like chocolate. No.
It's the sweetness of swallowing honey with a dry mouth.
It stays with you.
Nothing to wash it down

Your smile gives me cavities,
that hurt almost as much as you do.