if you witness a stranger
bash the back of her foot open,
scream from the pain,
and then begin to both bleed and cuss profusely,
NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR CUTE JOKES ABOUT HER TATTOOS.
wipe that self-satisfied smirk off your face
you useless mushy apricot.
Flommist Melony Ppenosyne is a writer and weird artist type. In the last year alone, she’s traveled to Virginia as a competing poet, co-written a play on mental illness that is presently being produced, and crafted a published essay checking the privilege and scope of art galleries. Copyright © 2016 Melony Ppenosyne. Image source.
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