I made a poem.

It's called "Poopoo is it Empty?"

Poopoo is it empty?
The water you drink.
I would fill it Poopoo,
But I forgot how.

Poopoo is it empty?
The bowl in your legs.
Does it glargle poopoo?
In a hollow way.

Poopoo your wet snout,
has stained my shorts again.
I guess I remembered,
For you.

I dropped out. I am drunk. i am almost talking to my gateway counsellor now, but it's through email so not really, huh? i just want to drop out, right. she wants to talk. i don't know if she knew what she was getting into when she took this job to help all these fucked up teary kids.

i will read this when i am sober and hate this. but so what.