a poem.
if i had one wish
id wish for more wishes
then take out a loan
and patronize a mortician
to exercise my stank body of a bonerless corpse, of course
and my breath stinks
and i can't breathe
and i can't seem
to get a handle on all these bad dreams and things
don't just do something, stand there
and seem to be something
seemingly, i couldn't even imagine
behaving in such a fashion
dreadful, really
to postpone ones inevitable downfall
i mean brownfall
crowned balls wear the hairy crown
that smell like the last pair of balls that wore it
a diamond-encrusted spire got caught in the sack
and tore it
'bring me back to life', he said
'i can't. i've never done anything like this before.'
'it's easy, just live my life for me. breathe with my lungs, walk with my legs. finish my story, it's yours now.'
'i just can't', she pretended to sob. 'i just don't want to.'
he frowned. i mean he browned. heavy are the balls that wear the crown.
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