Sully suffers from a stutter,simple syllables will clutter,stalling speeches up on beacheslike a sunken sailboat rudder.Sully strains to say his phrases,sickened by the sounds he raises,strings of thoughts come out in knots,he solves his sentences like mazes.At night, he writes his thoughts insteadand sighs as they steadily rush from his head.

I put a chameleon on a red dildo... He blushed

Cup of JoeThere's nothing like a cup of joe,when the morning's grey and grim and slow,when the streets collide with the world outside,when litter lies where lilies grow.Just drink that smoking cup of blackand feel your feelings surging back.Plus, spill a drop and a coffee shopwill sprout up from a sidewalk crack!

FlowersOn the third of June, at a minute past two,where once was a person, a flower now grew.Five daisies arranged on a large outdoor stagein front of a ten-acre pasture of sage.In a changing room, a lily poses.At the DMV, rows of roses.The world was much crueler an hour ago.I’m glad someone decided to give flowers a go.

I love you just the way you arebut you don't see you like I do.You shouldn't try so hard to be perfect.Trust me, perfect should try to be you.