I Feel Like a Zucchini

I feel like a zucchini
Who’s lying on the counter
Fresh bought from the market
Ready to be chopped, sliced and diced
Broiled and thrown down a gullet
But instead poor me
I was taken to the bedroom
And greeted by a certain
More aroused sort of mouth
Pink and moist
It was quite unpleasant
I felt defaced
And now I’m here
Lying in the trash can
Inedible and incredibly used
I only wish I could have been
A little bit more
Than just a toy.




I feel a strong urge to hide under a vanishing guise of intoxication. It makes me sickly, a lil icky and overall an overexposed mess. That’s all to make for proper bad but what few see is that intoxication brings a very visible void with its existense. For in normal life there is regret, commitment, and uncertainty… When I use something to remove myself I am within a cone of unsolicited nothingness… It’s beautiful in a sense but it is utterly and unexplainably engulfing. It’s a scary feeling for me to experience a lack of control over perception; I need to take a minute, to recalibrate my orientation of motion and aim more towards an existence of controlled steadiness.

My Mate

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Everything’s a fucking joke my mate says… We’re sitting on the edge of a cliff, not the biggest cliff to be fair but it’s still a damn cliff. We were both young, blue balled by youth and looking for a way to retire anxiety so we would climb up to this mountain and dance on the edge every once and a while. It was a nice escape from the rigid existence we led daily. It gave us a power, it was harmless… Till my mate said everything’s a fucking joke, as soon as I heard that my heart fell to the earth. My head was turned to the right and I was watching an eagle hunt for lunch, stalking the skies from north to south then east to west. My mate was on my left out of sight and as I turned around in horror I knew he was gone; and I was right. He was depressed, lonely and angry and he had the fucking gall to pop his broken body off of the edge, with me right beside. I croaked, unable to scream. He was gone, the trees below swaying deftly in the wind. I had heard no crack, no splat, and no cries. He had been silently enveloped by the green grasp of the forest; it was too peaceful. I began to bleed tears and horror, frantically clawingg my way up the moss away from the edge I had… We had been on, together. I made it far enough to where I could be swallowed by the forest and then I dropped on the needle ridden turf with a silent thump, and began to cry some more.


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As I’ve said before there is this delirium continually encroaching upon my psyche. Sitting in the corner, covered by a thin veil of cerulean shadow… Slowly poking toe after toe out of the dark. It’s frightening sometimes…. Sometimes it isn’t though as I feel like those toes are my own, those yellow tinted eyes that stare at me from above. Those two glowing orbs are familiar… They feel as my own nose feels; ingrained, and I cannot quite pin down as to why but they give me hope. Seeing that creature seep limb by limb from the shadow makes me smile and removes my longing gaze from existence.