it's here again and uglier. i think its disjointed body matches its dry and cystic face. a game of disorder with a penchant for the stuttering blur of open holes and broken bones

i don't want to take my medicine

nobody can fix

a body that isn't there

i have to take my medicine now

a whole new animal

i know what you're doing, i know why you're doing it. why do you feel that way? i already know, i have to ask you because it is appropriate. why are you ignoring me?

a deserted knife waiting for the right warrior to start a thousand wars

already tired from the bloodshed and the muscle he uses to prove himself, to prove the knife's interest

what unpleasant experiences have made anything remotely normal so uninteresting? boring concrete little boys stuck in over gendered bodies, looming over me without realizing my shadow had eaten theirs?

this doesn't feel good

i wish i would stop doing this

but they work so hard