mood free write 08.17.2021
Added 2021-08-18 05:37:25 +0000 UTCAt this point in my life, bullshit gives me immediate physical pain, you know? Like digging at a days old blister. Don’t rupture my puss-fat boundaries. I will ooze seamonkey gelatin, and I will have to start all over with the hurting part, which I am no longer amused by. We won’t speak of this transgression if you promise to read my mind, forever. Dedicate your studies to the intricacies of my complexion. But don’t look at me. Ever. Again.
We won’t speak of this transgression if you can wonder at the wonder of my being, without knowing the secrets of my knotted gnarled goats bleating severed signal grieving. Good luck. Godspeed. I’ve got sap to weep and a tired rerun of a generative task to meet on the other side of where you’re blocking the light, excuse me. Have a good rest of your day.
