TomFuckery – 1,300 Words on Nonsense
Come at me with Tomfuckery, your strategy will get smacked down.
So cheesy was your reused shit, I halfway listened, set my crown.
Did you believe that after a few days, in your sunshine I would drown?
I’m up to see the sunrise daily. In crusty sleep is where you’re found.
Gave this wordsmith salvaged poems? Did you think I’d swoon and drop?
That shit plugged up my toilet, dehydrated words fell with a plop.
I think you need a mannequin, if you’re just looking for a prop.
They don’t speak, and they don’t blink, and they won’t ever tell you stop.
You can’t play me like an off-the-shelf puzzle.
I’ll have you regretting quickly that you didn’t bring a muzzle.
Love-bomb my DMs like I’d turn into a puddle.
Come a little closer, my rusty jigsaw wants to cuddle.
Called me a muse and I’m amused that you see me as a token.
Whatcha creating, you CAD? Bitch you really must be joking.
Asked me to call you Daddy from day 4, my wrath is what you’re poking.
Who’s the muse, ya ding dong? I burp lyrics, you be croaking.
So thankful for the lesson, though it stung for 20 seconds.
I breathed real deep with DBT, and then remembered you’re a peasant.
You have to beg for scraps from queens like me, taking space up like a tenant.
You called yourself a Christian, nonsense. Go pray to God for penance.
xx