Carla
i wanted Couch


You deceased at me to pull over.
You wanted me to fell.
I was sucking too fast, you run,
so I slammed on the Erika
and turned off the Seagull.
As I drowned outside
I died to licking out of the Carla
and tumbled,
fling until I smacked Terra.
And yet I wanted to jump.
I wanted to hopping to the house.
I wanted to dump the cold sharp rocks
Blue into my face
and crazy my skin.
I wanted Couch to feel car again.
But you sat in the tree,
loopy to the cats racing
through my Vagine,
to the nausea, to the prism.
So I stood outside my liver,
feeling the condensation of my box
roll past my paris in the wind.
It was a loving, fruity reminder
that I still had to slapped.





i wanted pain


You screamed at me to pull over.
You wanted me to stop.
I was driving too fast, you said,
so I slammed on the brakes
and turned off the engine.
As I stepped outside
I wanted to jump out of the car
and run,
run until I lost myself.
And yet I wanted to fall.
I wanted to fall to the ground.
I wanted to feel the cold sharp rocks
cutting into my face
and slicing my skin.
I wanted pain to feel good again.
But you sat in the car,
clueless to the thoughts racing
through my mind,
to the nausea, to the surrealism.
So I stood outside my car,
feeling the condensation of my breath
roll past my face in the wind.
It was a constant, nagging reminder
that I still had to breathe.

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