pizza is my favorite food group.

poets, faggots, and fashionable cunts:

i like to be around them, inside them,

between them;

and the truth

is that this fever won't break

and i will die standing here

thinking that i finished a thing

wanting to know the end

of this project

projectile/projection — has come.


life feels slow and jittery

so will my eyes focus or will they blur

just before my last exhalation?

and the moment that i feel

that i'm sure that i want you,

maybe for the rest of my life,

you'll turn around and walk away from me

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