Probably Bad Poem About My Own Fears Of Flesh
Probably bad poem about my own fears of flesh
My own flesh is not my own. I am afraid that one day, in extreme pain, my body will unravel, leaving me with nothing. I am afraid that one day a doctor or dentist will fuck up, and my mouth or limbs will no longer be my own.
I am afraid of losing bodily autonomy. I am afraid, sometimes, of the courtroom, contruing the way and how I use it. Sometimes, I am afraid of gaining pregnacy weight, and not losing it. How it will sag and slow me down, with nothing to hold it up. Then everyone will call me fat, and people will pressure me to exercise more. But I am not afraid of pregnancy, it is the birth I am more afraid of. Which is worse, injections or pain for hours on end?
My body and my brain are the only things of me and to me, and that I completely one hundred percent have. It is only natural that I worry.
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Where’s Overlords/Optimusss presents?
uh hey- Merry Christmas! no- really-
This is getting out of hand, now there are two of them
two of them
Well, Star thought, well, I have two options. Option one, wait it out. Sounded simplistic and stupid, and also problematic. He had no idea where he was, or what lead him here. So part of option two, try to remember and make some sort of semblance of a plan despite his ignorance, was partly in motion. Star remembered a deep navy hijab with golden accents, Kimia. Which meant nothing, he worked with her on a daily basis, her two little shits provoked him almost daily, today…the day he remembered…was no different. He gave up trying to break through her solemn professional exterior, and had followed her towards one of the many briefing rooms in the massive warship. And he saw… he saw… Star clutched his head with his abominable soft hands as a headache burned through his now human skull. He was used to headaches, but this one was definitely different, like a metal headache, just, less crippling. It however didn’t erase the face that both his supervisor, Mr Morgenstern and Prime Minister Veracity Cotte siting, sitting!! In the same room together!! And nobody was dead, or dying, or even remotely injured?!
“Knock knock” His spiraling was taken away by an interpreter, some fuckboy clearly up is own ass with the power given to him by whatever authority had taken him. Most likely the Prime Minister. “What?!” He snapped, headache still lingering, he was never in the mood to socialize, let alone in this situation.
First thought, dear god, that things ugly
Happy new year, started with someone licking my feet!
Yes
before 2024 is over does anyone want to admit they're lying to themselves
Once again if I’m not mistaken, this can once contained tomato paste
hear me out. what if we created some kind of paste
I do have one, if you’d like. I’m a little shy, but his name is Bulletguard. And he is a former wreaker with connections to Impactor. He now prefers to spend his remaining,(relative) youth watching over and Mentoring a younger transformer named Eclipse.
Anyone wanna be friends and ship our transformers ocs together
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