The feeling of loneliness is slowly crawling back up my spine,
to my brain, down to my heart,
about my legs, on down to my toes and
back around again. A viscous cycle.
Cruel?
I think not!
Over, never.
Round & round I go, till it gets tired.



Or I eventually go numb.

Any time I think of her
my jaw locks
and my teeth press
into a viscous snarl
as if I've become some beast

And I would bite
with words I've held tight
sinking teeth into flesh
and getting it where it hurts

Maybe I am a rabid animal
who's too dangerous to trust
but what does that mean when
you're the one who made me this way

There are some hotdog shaped dogs,
They're weird,
Seem made up.
Nasty little creatures,
Vicious,
Rotten.
Ironic in a way,
Probably can't even **** without help,
But they're fast,
They have strong personalities.
I've never met a hotdog
Dog
Who is not creepy,
Their humans are weird too.