i’m not a bad girl huh i’m not a wake for a different body i’m not a wet feed i’m not a good freelancing gig huh a sideboob lancing gig a torso smoking a cigarette outside the reading i’m not a wet drag a kernel of wisdom advice passed on to my younger self “i would tell her not to waste so much time thinking about those men and don’t stress about jealousy” “i would tell her to grow a tail” “i would tell my babyself” to tether dysmorphia to identity and never learn what clothes fit what kind of girl are you tho how did you fail what buoy do you cling to when you posse when what wave and how wet is your wave no yr sex-negatent yr sex-negitaph yr womyn-born-wytches what did you do with your morning how did you spend it did you leave a lipstick rim on your white coffee mug is it that one that says YOU HAVE JUST AS MANY HOURS IN THE DAY AS JON BENET i slide a longread into the hole and lose my capacity for smell, how’s your content girl what are you into or what condition did you exploit what body became material as in like capital as in like whose story did you sell out was it yours? was it probably your own? where do you align how jenga is your pussy cuz like your body’s not a text but yer text sure is a it’s just that i love word jumbles, i love newspaper games like bridge and obituaries, i’m survived by sound in your throat and you can make any ol’ sound you want girl, you can make any sound you want, any sound you want girl — THAT’S THE SOUND YOU CHOSE? YOU CHOSE THAT SOUND? what part of yr body did that sound come from, huh. no i mean really. i mean really, really really. it sounded slimy but contained, like big fat rubbery ribbed earthworm in the jar ready to drown the glass w/ its own slime, like subsume yr form and do you feel safe here? i mean here, in the internet, with the sun going down — you say roundtable discussion you say special guest you tweet at and of and under never sub and I see a use of bodies as a means to orient yourself before the public eye, i’m sorry, we don’t have to talk about this girl, not at this party, not at your party, let’s play never have i ever given up control — like can you believe it’s 2015 and porn for a certain section of a certain generation means AESTHETICS, like SPECIAL LIGHTING, like ART MAG EFFECTS, no i’m going to throw up, like sweat from a can, no i’m thinking about it too much i’m getting ill, how i touch us and we recoil, like selling us wealth through some distant cousin of sex, like a ryan mcginley photograph, he’s dead right? or his skin became a car commercial you can fuck — i mean is your body rich yet like i feel so marketable in valencia n have you reached the hard tundra of the world-wide and unearthed your algorithm like dark fungal gem, how are we going to s____ the p_______ when we can’t even look each other in the eye, no but gently, to receive each other, no but it makes your skin crawl don’t it, huh earthworm, we don’t have to talk about this that’s a cute hat who wants to invent another word for a feeling we already have a word for who wants to write a thinkpiece who wants to clarify their views for the general public or reach their audience like grabbing a fistful of soggy dead leaves; slough off, exfoliate so good you make yourself cum and scream what advice would you give your younger self what advice would you give young writers what advice would you give the million cats cannibalizing each other on the hilltop what advice would you give me when i say girl is a place i go and can’t get any cellphone reception no bars no bars no bars
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