You're trash.
You're junk.
You're trash of the sea.
You're an animal carcass.
You're a car crash.
You're space spunk.
You're shaven facial hair.
You're a cracked mirror.
You're zero in a bag.
You're disposed of.
You're leftover goods.
You're last night's one night stand.
You're a lie.
You're rusty nails on a children's swing set.
You're not defined.
You're an expired carton of milk.
You're dead beat.
You're boiled water.
You're unsexual.
You're not really here.
You're spit from a retired judge.
You're junky.
You're used bacteria.
You're a monkey.
You're crumbly eyeballs.
You're shit blood.
You're stinky girl's panties.
You're a dog's wet balls.
You're sweat between toes.
You're nothing I ever wanted to know.
You're garbage in the backyard.
You're old trash now.


© 2002 David Greg Harth
02.03.28.02:56:26 @ 296 NYC