Poems from CH

CH's picture
Everyday must be its own
I could paint you the way a man would the brutish, harsh lines that cut across your features flat, unseeing orbs that gawk at both...
I feel as if I can live forever Currents ruffling the hairs on my skin littered with mounds Waves swelling through my dilated pores pumping...
I love eating meat, fruit, even the godforsaken vegetables, I love eating.   I love chewing sinews, tendons, leathery bits, I love chewing...
what does this all mean? love love love love i want to throw up, my hands up   i want to go bald with force yank all my roots for free dom...
Holy shit I have sixty years to go I want to sleep the time away but i dont want to breathe   I really fucking want to be a doctor I want...

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