Vitamin Shots

I am ill. they say.

So, buy me some vitamin shots.

I want a dark blue day.

Keep me like an apple that rots.

Apple that green, once and light a shade.

And i smell of night shade.

But, it is girly, they say.

The way i smell.

I smell sweet, sugary and caramelized.

Because i bake.

I bake cinnamon cookies and carrot cakes.

I bake life into particles of buttered coconut dust.

I must.

I lust, them loins.

And around them, flowers.

In colours of red, gold and green.

I love pink too.

And pink is the symbol of gay, they say.

Some say.

Some don’t.

I do what my heart wants.

They don’t.

And they won’t.

Because, they keep telling themselves not to.

Anyway.

I don’t need no cure.

Nobody does.

I scream silently,

bold and pure.

And say, no more.

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