melodixmayhem said: "Sips soda sorta satisfied"
I just want you to know that I saw this and that I love you.
It took me so long. So long, sorry.
I am stuck under a rock with a broom
trying to brush dust off of the rock
meanwhile my leg is pinned under it
pieces are breaking off, pebbles end up in my mouth.
Trying to find the strength to push off the rock.
When I have a silence blanket
What am I going to do because I’m cold
Who is that I don’t hear
Why can’t I escape the blanket for a sweater
Where are the friends who act as sweaters
How can I make a sweater
The Day, Questions
When the day runs away
What was it thinking
Who is going to remember it other than me
Why do days go so quickly, so rudely
Where is that day hiding for the rest of my life
How can I make it come back
The Question Words
When I don’t eat
What the world looks like
Who is outside
Why do I look outside
Where is the sun
I’m not sure how to work
this face with this nose
the wrong size
My voice doesn’t work
No, I don’t know how to work it
If I had the right accessories
I’d know how to move
I wouldn’t appear electrocuted
The mirror lies as usual
and I’m 5’9” in my head
My wrong head.
lol I forgot about ribcages
They didn’t exist either
I just had the mental image of just organ-only people walking around.
Just speaking of the organ-only people.
IT’S EARLY. NEVERMIND.
For some reason, we have skin but
I’ve seen a world without skin
Where someone took his heart
out his chest and traded it
with someone else who offered
him their heart which he thought
was a better heart and I saw children
tying flowers they picked and they tied
them around their intestines and they said
it was so pretty and I saw lungs being rubbed
together as an intimate act and feel my lungs
expanding and you can feel how damp they are
and the texture of the lungs but when people got
angry they could take sticks so easily to the lungs
and it was difficult to put some parts back in place
when they fell out so there were no great sports there.
"Go eat a sandwich sadly"
Conspirators whose eyes
settle on Roman roads
steady glances cast from
the smell of an old book
I hold out, wind flips pages
on Pointe de la Torche
This feeling seemed made of holes
Sewn up with pebbles and waves
It is the perfect moment after dying
with the tiny violinist
running in terror
I hate the people garbage
what day does the people collection service
Arms sticking out of bins
a few legs traveling like tumbleweeds
get onto my lawn and ruin my lawn
and they ruin the neighborhood
Think of the children
Pack them tongue sandwiches
and throw away the people skulls
and people torsos - they take up space
Clean, blank, modern room
To be free of clutter - and people
To have a carefree time
Until the interruption
Sound of the garbage truck
which reminds us there is garbage.