This was a tough day. I lost myself for a while.
I see i’m taking a turn with blogging. What i mean is…Thbfft. I don’t know. The things i write feel less random; i have more of a sense of purpose. Which is scary, because
what if no one picks up what i’m throwing down?

I’m not sure this belongs here, but let’s try. I’ve fucked up and freaked out before and i’m still here. My therapist said today (again, because i need it repeated) that no one ever died from feeling their feelings.

I wrote this but i didn’t.
WARNING: Contains references to childhood sexual abuse.

This throb throb throbbin’
blob goblin

Stomp stompin’
Stop your rompin’,

You’re blockin’ my talkin’ and rockin’ my noggin
Pop a sock in and i’ll drop the sobs and turn the knob

My open gob is toxic shock

My bleeding lips and broken box will feed and slip
Your twisted locks

I’m thump thump thumpin’
My blood’s still thrummin’ and you’ve got nothin’

You walk my block and pimp my tots
You robbed my plots

I balked, i stalked, i hid behind your seething thoughts
Gripped the lynchpin while you were pumpin’ filth and grinnin’

I bobbed and slipped your pinching hips
I clobbered
I punched your slobbing dick in

I cry
They lie
My head it died
I’m satisfied
They’re fried

I fly and wave goodbye