Friday, 28 November 2014

poemz that are bad because i'm a prose person, but whatever


ヽ(•‿•)ノ 

a little death is called a come
Cum!
How Crude.
Tsk. Tsk.
Wags my finger (and my tail)
My brain a sad trombone noise
An anti-climax; burst balloon
Suicide has an airiness
Depression, a fleshiness.
Souls may be airy angels,
But depressions is a wet fish fart!
....a great weight indeed....

This isn't a good poem
(it is a bad poem)
but what were you expecting?

ヽ(•‿•)ノ 

Kill yourself?
No kill myself!
Suicide and selfhood
are all squished up
together
-squished-up-like-sardines- 
There is no 'I'
without suicide

OR

There **is** an I in suicide

I forget how the 
expression goes!
I forget a lot of things
these days!

This isn't a good poem
(it is a bad poem)
but what were you expecting?


ヽ(•‿•)ノ 

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