hand off lying tulla poor play for while I sit and while I stand your fucking metaphor is so weak that I have to tell you that I don’t write cloud metaphors if you think this is some sort of showcase or standing rightness hover and dive toward my fingers typing not one more typing not one more t letter t and typing it begins with t and what, Poetry Foundation? Holy spirit that I cannot see there have been more than thirty billion works created of any kind of medium and all of them and the current writing posted between five minutes before this hjhjhjhj and ten minutes after this select bullshit like how the fuck you even write if it’s MORE work how the fuck do you want MORE work the perfect world is not one that your sorry ass would be understood or liked or having received some thick kind of flash that you claim you want but that there would be no having to do anything at all not laziness but that thing where the only reason I have to write this junk work is because of culture and all the people that actually believe culture is a real word how fucking small do you think I am? Very small, but I am even smaller than that and you is all big or maybe you’ll be small tomorrow for five minutes and then go big for four hours and reverse it not so the day passes but that it goes backward and all you’re left with is my face telling you that if you cared about something anything you would not share it you would keep it all to your fucking self so don’t tell me you have things or you hate something or you have loves or anything at all cuz that’s a fucking lie if you tell me or tell anyone else you keep that locked up tight not no cornerstone review on the back of your harper collins or farrar strauss and giroux the fuck you think this is some personal encouragement? You favoriting fantasies, you don’t even like what you have and you’re determined to keep out anyone like me telling you that you cannot, you cannot create alternate eyes for you to use when trying to make it feel better you have to hit me so hard and pray that you kill me, and if you use classroom english, where you say certain things are predicates, or metaphors, or juxtapositions, then smack me harder because I don’t belong in your fantasy world, come back to real life when you’re ready to have soul and not weep when someone you know is inside the bathroom in a bathroom filled territory having their stomach come back up and I’m hearing it and I haven’t talked to this person in a long while and they feel something for me but they keep puking and I do not talk to them because they are trash and if i was puking I would hit them if they tried to make me feel better because I need to puke that bullshit up as I am inside your fantasy world with every single blog posted in this moment for all the tags that you never knew existed because wordpress is a terrible site and if i was running things it would be shut down so I don’t have to be aware that wordpress exists with all you clowns running to it like it was your best mate.

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