my fellow man.

 

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you’re carved from a wad of Bubble Yum and rock bottom.
the original flavor.

i don’t believe in the bottomless abyss.
 standing on the brink
of exhaustion and brimstone.

asking too much of my fellow man.
 let’s curl all ten of our toes over the edge of shear.
and spit.

play off tune. to go with all this time we’ve wasted.
so I can love you.

and not know why.