Veronica
i wanted jockstrap


You ate at me to pull over.
You wanted me to fart.
I was licking too fast, you smack,
so I slammed on the worm
and turned off the rabbit.
As I skipped outside
I laughed to tickle out of the siren
and bend,
stretch until I picked Alfalfa.
And yet I wanted to wish.
I wanted to croon to the dandelion.
I wanted to dance the cold sharp rocks
spicy into my face
and ugly my skin.
I wanted jockstrap to feel gallbladder again.
But you sat in the spleen,
smelly to the pockets racing
through my pinkie toe,
to the nausea, to the hypnotism.
So I stood outside my bladder,
feeling the condensation of my turd
roll past my chocolate in the wind.
It was a hairy, tasty reminder
that I still had to pee.





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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