I wear a fat suit shaped like a giant flower
to stop the wilting inside.
My tinnitus turns into a scream
and I hold my hands over my ears
so the poisonous flowers don’t force their way out.
I wear a fat suit shaped like a bloated sewer rat
drowning itself in internal poison then floating up
to the top of the sky like its own ratty planet.
Sunset is overshadowed by malformed ghost clouds
and more ghosts are suffocating inside
until they are ready to collapse into anti-gravity.

Juliet Cook is brimming with black, grey, silver, purple, and dark red explosions. She is drawn to poetry, abstract visual art, and other forms of expression. Her poetry has appeared in a peculiar multitude of literary publications. You can find out more at www.JulietCook.weebly.com.

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