poetry

elimination

I ache for something
but I am not sure what.

The aching stops
when I eat pop tarts
when I masturbate
when I yell at my children
when I breath deeply.

Why do you not ache?
Why do you not eat pop tarts?
Why do you not spit them out,
moving your fat tongue over your
teeth, digging into your cheeks,
penetrating holes,
scraping the roof of your mouth,
clumsily
hiding the evidence?

Stupid.

I am sure of one thing:

there is no light
there is no dark
there is just elimination
and
the failure to eliminate.

Standard

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