Streams of Fire

Completely unedited stream of conscious piece. Have fun.

Just go do something, just go flark and freak stricken dervied from insanity the muses belch out fizzy soda that reeks of the most tempting breast milk you’ve never had ’cause you’re a fucking pansy shit heat that won’t even touch a real woman a womanw ith skin supple and too much of it drapping oozing layers of bulging fat rolls and thighs that jiggle fucking fuckster ripping out eyes that don’t see the way you want them to see so narrow minded I’m typing I’m trapped in the 21st century whatever happened to pens leaking in your front pocket women never had front pockets how cruel i want pens to leak on me too ooooh insinuations that’s all we can do fuck fuck nothing better than swear words dumb bitch has a hat the size of a turkey beaten down like the bird killed every holiday dinner a tall man with an angry face and rings the size of empire seizing diamonds the greed the punches night after night her face is broke her voice ain’t the same her throat has been throttled too many times she’s a broken woman and I haven’t met her but I know her all the same the dead loved ones in graves WE CAN’T SEE THEM ANYMORE and it’s worse worse but life goes on like running it’s all like running similies metaphores will save your sorry soul from perishing from sorrow sorry sorrow living in a building no freedom trapped inside the broken mind the mirrors all reflecting the name thing burnt to a crisp in the sunlight her hair withers like a dead mummy wrapped inside an attempt at immortality well more like preservation who wants to stay here forever it’s all just a dream an illusion did no one take the matrix seriously what fuckers to not understand streams rivers i want to swim in the womb of the world the water flowing through through rivers of me of my flesh oh I’ve seen rivers that run through me oh they were there in nights in nights i made rivers i made rivers i was god so often, so cruelly often that’s all it is i ate peanuts and write in a frenzy the dish soap is almost out an apple soar almost done going to the garbage not the compost the garbage is this poetry poetry spew it it it it iout out oiut it’s on the outside the hunger is hungry so what do we feed a hungry hunger it makes no sense but it makes the most the confusion will give clarity once it’s sorted out and it will be diamond crystal pennyfeather clear witherpools birds that sing in flight i want to fly higher than the rest of you but not to shit on you but to protect the rest of you from the burning sun, I’ll pass along the word of the angels but burn out as I’ll be too close to the atmosphere burning burning who will bring the water, who will bring the water for us on fire?

About Moon Eggs

A woman who remembers enjoying writing.
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