the others take me! i’m pooped!

And so I fade under a windy wish and the name Harry,
hushed thru the rustles of gummy Lego bits.
The poke goes back to me yet again,
the undesirable.
Cross off the bars but eye the purple slashes underneath,
and all those rosy dots, sworn fellowship of empathy.
It was the scrubby, scented trunk I was courting,
who cared about the withered branches? The trunk sang to me.
but I’ve lost its gaze. It’s on neither side.
Round and round, I trace the strings
and come out with watery fingers.
Walking in reverse? Guarding? Yes, myself.
Un-“ess”-ed. The midget slice tossed out
spiked me up with bitter pulp.
It’s foggy up there, where I should be judging.
crammed and devitalised in the middle.
awake and prejudiced down below.
chilled and restless on the ground.
The fountain has cringed its cursive fiery limbs,
It-not me.

the loser me is resurfacing more and more..i seem to be losing/ losing it so much lately. i could have squished that doggy’s tale if it kept yapping at me.

i’m thinkin..if i dont go completely fruity soon or do not attempt permanent existence effects, smth..

clogged to that

I like cereal. I look around but I’m stuck on.

apRES tHe

mayb.