I am Matthew

The fever sticky came and glued mine features hard-to, sweat-bed and shake, pooled of mine own soggy leakage, driven mefrom by viral battle inward, Matty stuck and delayed and barred from freedom break yet, bed-whored on the waiting game, and One and Two, mine sneaky shove-hand slap-guards, sit cornered and scowly in mine dampened infirmary, laughing meward for the bulk of the greeny muck, spilled from the red of mine throbbing beak, Matty howl and throng, bash and sick and boo hoo Matty, boo hoo, “I AM THE QUIXOTIC MATTY QUICKSAND!” Me-cry “STUCK OF MINE OWN FEATURES AND RIDDLED OF THE GLUEY GHOST!” and One-Two giggle frenzy comes wheezy, finger point and jeer the Matty me, razzing the horror of mine own salty spot, and only the temple callus gives succour, press and sigh and Lou and tear halos and the love lost 24 hours, press and grin gapey, the spork shaving foolery, press and yip, mine war monkey Matty treefort, rub and gurn, the Spinach boner mirror-game, rub and rub and rub and rub and One and Two recoiling back, “He’s off again” coming breath sickly, mine half-lost crotch bonus coming to, hardened of the Matty then, throb-fighting the ping of mine medulla, where the shame of the Matty now resides, rub and rub and rub and rub, left hand headward, right hand down, rub and rub and rub and rub and throb fight this place, throb fight the now, throb fight the vag-handed fork bearded man, glowering down and smiling nasty, bad touch the spot for good, I am Matthew, I am Matthew, I am still Matthew, and mine hands are wrenched mefrom, side-bound and I am back-lain, bed tent bravely retreating as it wells from deep within, the mucky explosion to come, the bullet from mine gunbeak, and it is loud and screamy from the depths of mine features and it is a jew and it is airborne and bloody green and it hovers as the glowing fish jumped from the neighbour’s pond that day (Matty face-down and drowning), and it lands face-wise sloppy and I am sullied of mine own muck, the giggle screech of mine demonic watchers coming gurgly past mine blocked lobes, but though I am shamed mine head is clear, unblocked of the mucus cement, and through the headache I can see, I am Matthew, I wish I was somewhere else.