In the belly of the beast, dwelling within where the monster can't get to me, I'm safe for now. Will the beast stir and sense me inside? Find me and pull me out of his gut? Am I Jonah inside the whale? Safe or ask risk? Time will tell. Thinking I'm going to be free when I'm out there in the world, my world keeps me a prisoner. For how long? Do I stay unseen in the beast or venture forth in life and let the monster eat me? What do I do? Man it up and run like fuck. Or am I the monster, who's in my beast, my belly? Roles crazily reversed.
Satire is my life, I'm in the dock when i tell the truth on how I failed in romance and getting a job in life. Don't you judge me; you're not qualified nor are you god. What a shame your not part of the tragedy that's my life. I'm destined to be alone, always till the end of time unless the one from the steel city wears no ones' ring and will join me for ale. I'll ask and be ready for her man, in case she's taken. I believe the 21st century should be a time of peace, not war. Just look at it. Black wood be good tonight any time before midnight.
My mate loves to moan at me, she has her opinions and voices them when she can. Don't you know she's always right? Get a day job so you can pay your way in the world. I would if some cunt will give me a job. You don't have a writing career. What are my open mic slots, previously published kimble ebooks and poems in mags? I must lose my pregnant baby belly as I eat too much. Don't you know I walked 6 miles at Dovestones the other day? I do love my mate even though she moans. She my mate and is allowed to moan; no one else is, she's my mate.