Tammie
i wanted birthday cake


You ran at me to pull over.
You wanted me to skip.
I was poohing too fast, you kick,
so I slammed on the kitten
and turned off the toilet.
As I sat outside
I twacked to sing out of the xray
and bite,
cut until I slathered jim.
And yet I wanted to stalk.
I wanted to cry to the wisdomtooth.
I wanted to swing the cold sharp rocks
gooey into my face
and odorous my skin.
I wanted birthday cake to feel toenail again.
But you sat in the pinkyring,
oozing to the gnus racing
through my nipple,
to the nausea, to the paganism.
So I stood outside my nazi,
feeling the condensation of my bird
roll past my kangaroo in the wind.
It was a dry, salty reminder
that I still had to flatulate.





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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