Tuesday, March 15, 2011

reconstituted death

lets go home o' honey bee. i cant see but dont you mind the grass is long my legs are short. oh dear oh me my house is broken but you dont love me anymore said the hills. the mountains cried that day and the wind is windy and cold. i will sit down beside and imaginate myself without you until the day we die. my arms leak flatulent fluid and my eyes decieve me on a regular basis. i dont mind that you dont lay next to me i can figure out how to love myself all over again. the birds are of in the distance spying on the chickens wondering why they dont escape. the egg scrambled away to find it s friend you say. lets follow him and get hungry as it finds it s way into my sarcofagus. my toenails ache and pain and pull themselves off everynight to go party down the bathtub drain with my dead hair and skin that reconstituted itself into the a more beautiful version of me. the room is clean miss daisy oh, wont you join me inside for tea and stroke my legs for good luck. i bought these glasses in hopes that my iq wont look so stupid to others. i have to say i am sorry my friend but you must be miss informed for i have no friends except for my pool of tears i keep in my bbedroom closest. they are nicely in place in a fishbowl so i can drown myself in my sorrows every night. i am hoping the bathtub wont get jealous since the time it tried to electricute myself. i get down on both knees and pray to it every once in awhile. i am sorry you have to see this but the buttons below my fingers are conspiring against me.

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