Monthly Archives: February 2016

Angry Words of an Infantile Lover

You are a waste of the sunshine.
When I think about you I count every breath
And I wish that I could get them back.

I don’t like you. In fact I wish I’d never met you.
I imagine it sometimes and I climax, tearfully.
I regret not hurting you, more.

I think that you are horrible like the hideous monster under the bed.
I wish your heart was as big as mine so you could understand how much hate can be squashed inside it.

You are a pot belly pig. I kick you and I roast you.
I share you with all my friends and they love you.
You are delicious, dead.

I wish you became a puzzle and I jumbled up all the pieces so I didn’t know what you look like.
I wish I was so stupid I couldn’t solve the puzzle.

I don’t even like writing about you.
I’m going to tear you out and scrunch you into a ball and play basketball with your head. Dickhead.

Love, C ximage


Without Him

What if we’re all a mistake? What if God couldn’t help himself one day and got bored or horny and had sex. And now Mother Earth raises us all single handedly because her bastard lover refused to stick around. What if he pops his head in now and again, disrupts the order of things before deciding we’re all useless and washing his hands of us? Well, what if we don’t care about his rules or his issues or his absence? What if we’ve forgotten about him? Formed ourselves, designed our destinies, wanted more for ourselves than he could be bothered to conceive. What if we’re all just fine, or actually, perfect? Without him.