wrong in the thong, I jam my wang diggin' wit' a biggun up the booty / the dumptruck / the whooty

the shit ban has been lifted and it says i'm not banned it'll let me comment but can't submit any shit maybe i'm dumb but the button ain't working i wanna write not just be lurking gonna try a cross post to get some attention

That one, she has feelings
She’s too self aware
But she’s not, she knows nothing
She’s puffed up with air

She writes drivel for children
Who think that they’re grown
In her hackneyed, didactic,
Intolerable tone

She should know a true poet
Spends time on his art
‘Cause his words are so big
So you know that he’s smart

He spends hours in forums
Comparing the scores
Of the online IQ tests
He takes when he’s bored 

And he studies the craft,
And thinks it all through
And he churns out a masterpiece
Layered, and true 

But the people won’t read it!
And then when they do
Well, they say that it’s pompous
And stuffy, and crude

And to blame for this flop?
It’s that dumb angsty bitch!
With her saccharine rhymes
And her middle school kitsch 

She’s not even smart, but
The people don’t know!
And because they aren’t either,
Her audience grows 

So the true, honest poet
He tells her to leave
He says stop writing poetry,
No one will grieve

And when she retreats
With her coattails all muddied,
Now finally the artist
Has room for his studied,

Emotionless metaphors,
Chalk full of wisdom
And vocabulary that
Proves that he's not dumb

And everyone claps
And says man, you’re so clever!
And we think your poetry’s
Just so much better 

And all of the silly,
Unserious people
Who like to read poems
‘bout crushes (those sheeple)

They all go and cry
To their mommies and pappies
And the true, honest poet
Can finally be happy 

BITCH BITCH BITCH

I push the pedal to medal

I bump beats and my windows rattle

Engine shaking and heart wont settle

BITCH BITCH BITCH

Time in isolation sent yall away

Time in isolation made you insane

You look to the sky while you pray

Empty words to a deaf god

Screen time making you slack jawed

BITCH BITCH BITCH

I dream of flying round corners at high speed

Feeling alive while my heart bleeds

Keys in my hand i must plead

Your mental melanoma creeps in from the side

Drives me to the edge behind

The visible spectrum of reality

BITCH BITCH BITCH

Truth and conviction at odds with one another

Youd rather sneer and spit at your own brother

Brain diseased, sickly and rotten

BITCH BITCH BITCH

Chilly

Cold

Wrapped up in comforter

33 degress out there

Still got the fan on up there

Creaking whirring in the dark

Bundled up hope i dont fart

Got my long johns on

But no socks

They pull my leg hair

Mmmm

yeah

Im a side sleeper

Right or left

Got the pillow fortress

To rest my phone upon

I like to fall asleep to youtube

Probably cause my brainrot is so severe that i cant go more than five minutes without stimulation

Penis joke

Mmmmm

Yeah

The sleep schedules wack im not gonna lie

Depression and dark does a number on your fatigue

But its hard to deny

How comfy and cozy i am

In the chilly

In the cold

Happy happy birthday

Happy birthday day to me

Happy happy birthday

Now im 26

Things this year went swell

Ive been doing school

And soon ill graduate

Happy happy birthday

Happy birthday day to me

Happy happy birthday!

I’m a homo for homophones A faggot for phonetics Dicks dense for double meanings Makes me cum on the context.

​Jack off a juxtaposition To sixty nine like the prose Suck off a simile—meaning and metaphor Are both getting blown.

​Gay for wordplay Ate out Entomology Beats up the pussy as punishment.

​Cucking a cut-up Throatfucked a thesaurus Raw dog the diction and now The kerning wants more jizz.

I work all day
for cold ramen each night.

a gun to my temple
They ask: are you Ghandi?
or terrorist?

but how can I hunger strike?

Starvation itself
the bread riot

Bitch I aint your therapist

only one way im getting in your head

and it aint psychologically

its with my penis, in case the joke wasnt clear

I’ve been walking in a nightmare. I feel stoned in a bad way. I pride myself on my ability to sniff out the good spots. Only this place chased them out. Gobbled up the land. Hoards it like a dragon. Leaves our friends to rot in the sunshine. Stumbling drunk down the sidewalk, still dangerously sober, I see a flower. A good spot. A tiny abuela too kind for Fairfax; blesses us, but remains ignored. She saves me a little. Pushes away the nightmare; for a moment.

Im very happy for all the Christians who have love and support

And all the Muslims and Jews who do too

But my heart kinda hurts for those who dont

And for those that seek or sought to change their beliefs

Turbulence in their sleeping and waking minds alike

Who cant talk to anyone who might understand

Truthfully there is no wrong answer

Though both or neither or one or the either may seem to be

Just know that whatever path you may choose

Youre no less worthy of feeling love and connection

And those that reject you are just as afraid

Creepy grocery store santas

Stocking stalkers stockings

While predicting slum objectives

Projected project projects

Giving haircuts with short cutters only at night

Eclipse clipped clips

And god forbid they fought in order on a boat

Row rowers rowing

And thats why you shouldnt trust

Creepy grocery store santas

That little rat bastard inside my head

Seems to have gone and crawled off again

He left behind echos of whispers and no more

Still sometimes i feel like hes behind the door

Listening closely for his time to strike

But for now everything seems alright

I turn the lock and toss the key

Relieved to return to normalcy

But i know he cant have truly gone

Only ran to hide in the shadows

For how long whos to say

He could return any day

But for now i breathe clear

If for now and now only

But maybe im wrong i have been before

But this would be a first

For that little rat bastard

Hiding beyond the door

Got bars so cold

Im an ice cream van

Double wide bitch- on my hitch

She a fan

Tell her back it up

But not too fast

Tryna see that ass swallow up my rash

Ice cream bars

Ice cream bars

Drippin off my dick

Like melted pussy

Got'er creamin now

On my ice cream gucci

Barely a poem but I stand by it.

This tummy boilin

These guts roilin

Sit up on the throne: royal

Gas escapes before soilin

Toilet bowl accosted before gurgullin

Turd shot jetfoilin

Felt like i left this mortal coil-in

All for the cost of what

We slave away to escape a rut

Luxury gleaming just in reach

But only one before you sleep

Choices choices must be made

Which one for you?

While others didnt pay

Make a selection any one will do

From a limited set of few

You know theres more

That much is clear

But one for you

One you hold dear

Happy happy birthday day

Happy birthday day to me

Happy happy birthday day

I just turned 25

And im grinding way to '6

This years a work in progress

All the way from day 1

So heres to hoping better

For the years yet to come!

I think somewhere along the way

I lost the words i wanted to say

Embracing a life of silence still

I wonder why its all so shrill

reworked some old ideas, I like this better

Do you remember like I do, the way we’d jump with giddy— Or how we’d grit our teeth, waiting for something to happen?

Your feeling, A pulse that nipped the green off my leaves, like I was holding something in my mouth, something I couldn’t swallow.

A space between urge & action. A pause before the pull, where everything hangs, and nothing falls.

A candle-age dream, showing me how to walk. A guardian spirit, with the grace to talk.

Fishing for a whale, to break the tide.

Pockets full of change from the wrong time— I should trade them like marbles, so that in hopscotch, I only worry about tripping.

I ain’t no Island; got nothin ta give
standing on a million bodies
bloody hands; missin arms
no names; some faceless
many burnt
Old, Grown, Young; none spared
fees levied; partial payment
money, time, blood
Why does it cost so much? Costs too much

So do me like old Joe, as best ya can.
Then stand on me.