The Pretentious Ego


i am fish

Story is marked as mature.

I fell and bruised my ego,

but it was prosthetic, still, at best.

Its schistic cries are echoing—

abrasive, but not loud.


Please pick my teeth out one by one

with your campus, freshly tilled.

Pickle them in fluids fished from folds of flesh unfound.


Please dress my wombs in plastis wrap

with p'roxide underneath

and sodium bicarbonate

to bleach the blemished parts.


Amounts and mounds of maliced mounts

are milling through our minds

and bouncing back our blue abashèd-

ness with blackened hearts.


Let's budget both our boyhoods

and get rid of garish gaud.

Our girlishness is golden but

still preferably gone.


My goal is to gain consciousness

in this coma called a cult.

You, altruistic alchemist,

calls callous calloused calm.


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Comments (2 so far!)

Average reader rating 5.00/5



This makes my head hurt, but in a good way.

  • #370 Posted 7 years ago
  • 0
  • 5 out of 5


What Ethel said haha

  • #381 Posted 7 years ago
  • 0
  • Published 7 years ago and featured 7 years ago.
  • Story viewed 13 times and rated 1 times.

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