'look at that. what do you see?
if you're going to draw naked chicks, look at a vagina and a nose, alright? draw them, don't mutilate their cunts.'
qui avair dit ca?
c'est moi, le chat!
i don't hate you exactly, i just don't know you and carry no desire to learn.
after an eternity or 6 months, whichever.
i come back to roost on my bitching spot.
though you weren't thinking of slovenly never.
i shall give thee a boost, even if you'd rather not.
this is weak poetry in form of a journal.
i rescued a frog and got called a retard by some eco-nazi.
oh dear, disintegration of poetic form.
ahem.
hospitals salved me but after a month of sleep and frustration.
i take less pills and changed my menstruation.
perhaps i smell of cigarette
"who smells of cancer in here?!"
i cannot change the ways of those around me. open a book.
not your legs, nor your mouth.
oh god running water and photograph chemicals!
fuck you, the world is NOT ending.
don't point at me with that little knife darling.
i saved that frog you cunt.
i saved the finch the worm the eyeballs the starling
don't talk to me, eco-cunt
if you have a problem, get some answers
just think of the co2 you release by complaining.
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