I feel sick enough to vomit.
I am an insignificant blip on a scatograph
of a worthless and meaningless phrase.
A phrase who's very definition can defy itself.
In what way can a title be less meaningful.
But perhaps I was better at
Being a dysfunctional truth.
A direct meaning, in a direct way.
Where you can fail but still meet its basic requirement.
The title gave me a solace and comradery,
I finally had a place
that I didn't have to hide
or pretend or lie.
My body and mind were mine
but it felt too good to be right
I guess I should have known.
That no matter what my aversion to
the sexual human condition is,
I'll never find the peace of mind I need.
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