i don’t care if your back gives out
when your face bears signs of oncoming melanoma
when your trousers sit higher than they already do
i hope your belt cuts off circulation
kinky castration
i wish i knew enough
about words that don’t make sense
about hotshot greentext lore
about borderline personality disorder
in a way
i’m happy being hanged and quartered (not drawn)
i’m okay with killing myself at the risk of dying
as long as your musk is still intact
as long as you cut your face the same way
as long as i see it for myself