
Got caught on barbed wire in the rain, one step closer to being done with him,
holding my breath was frustrating the fact I'd have to fetch a ladder to save him,
in order to properly dispose of him, to be rid of him, to blank slate again,
Without the alligator headed teddy bear body riddled with frayed holes
prolapsing cotton in which I had came inside on a regular basis for at least
a winter break me off a piece of that shame, whom I dubbed Fred without reason before
discovering the ingenious idea at the time, that fucking a stuffed animal seemed sublime,
just slightly better than the sock so wildly favored among my peers
over the chain link fence cast out and into a forest thinned by fall, hoping
for a gust under a little wing of applause in this stadium of ants with leafy ponchos
that blanket with comfort and put to rest the shunned filled with cotton and come
well hidden 'n' rotting within the 0-horizon with his emerald green long pile faux fur
unceremoniously draped in dead wet leaves with his blunt snout, an open mouth
baring sharp white flimsy felt triangles bending the threat from his one flat plastic
cartoon eye left openly hinting at its unpleasantly scented presence breaching in
displeasure of his owners decision to put down, while I the owner on the other hand,
like a quivering column matched his stare beyond the fence in the rain wishing I had
grabbed a shovel or possibly even gently dismembered it I mean what the fuck was I
thinking someone is going to find out that over the fence and into the woods lies an
animal stuffed relentlessly gored by my very own hot glue gun in a shallow grave well
maybe just partially covered in leaves on the outskirts of the water treatment plant
directly behind my house where through a basement window under a warping deck I
crawled dragging Fred, bouncing on a dusty rocky moonish terrain littered with candy
wrappers n cigarette butts, thinking why on earth didn't I bury him there, what to be dug
up later to be asked, why on earth would you think of fucking that of all things, are you
sick? No! still not ok revealing why I had buried a stuffed animal snuffed under the deck
outside my basement room window analyzing whether or not my previous little helper
consisting of a standard rectangle pillow vised by my belly between the mattress and the
box spring was any less successful at making me cum, when I came to the conclusion, it
was the subsequent chaffing which sparked the experimental masturbation that ensued by
choosing to fuck a teddy bear with an alligator head filled with clouds named Fred.
Defiled and left for Dead.
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