I Like F.

I like F. i like the way it makes my friends shudder after they receive back that paper, 2 amputated arms growing out of a bold line to mark their failure, whatever that means. even unkind D is preferred, though it's doubtful and dull, and comes after C, a carnivorous vein that bears the mark of cain but still yet not quite as foreboding as F The most cancerous of all, the vowel fills the deflating leather of a soundless couch in humid weather, sinking into sour-scented sheepskin that seeps into the sound-shells of your skull before it's spoiled, when the skin still sticks to your skull, that is fff mimicking the sound of you thus sinking into your seat upon freight, F marks failure, it says "you are fragile," makes you think you are a vase the second before it breaks To be false, or to eventually fall? this poem failed fuck.