I wrote a poem today,
my secret friend
You have no idea
Where I’ve been
I’m not sure what it is supposed to be about, I wrote it spontaneously. I’m frustrated by my coworkers hitting on me. They always tend to assume I’m a lesbian since I don’t return their feelings. Never seems to occur to them that I might simply be dead inside. Or that I may have a schizoid personality disorder. [A word comes to mind- scrotum. How hideous, it sounds like a velociraptor or a bird. Mute. That’s what they want isn’t it? Passing inanimate gestures as they cough up words to express what? Sexual interest? If you can’t enjoy the gore of my vagina bleeding you’re probably too young to be having sex with me billy.] I don’t know why other girls like the mean guys I want someone cool and brain dead, like Andy Warhol. Hmmm perhaps a catatonic boy would be nice. Not contaminated by the cancerous prions of society.
Note: prions are proteins that cause diseases such as Creutzfeldt Jacob’s disease, that is what they call a person with mad cows disease.
I heard my science teacher joke once that male ejaculate had a high protein content and so it was good for you to eat. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with these other girls, contamination by prions. “This stuff is amazing bob I lost 70% of my fat using this diet pill admittedly most of the fat lost came from my brain but hey…”