the weight of the world crushes down, anxiousness ebbs from the core of my being, compressing, collapsing, a man sized crater all that remains

i yearn to become an armadillo

halfway there as is

a leprous thing, tainting all that come near, eyes glowing in the night, reflecting a light not inherent inside

curling into a ball at the first sign of anything, when life gets too real, avoiding touch, feeling, thought

rolling away, hiding, hoping the armor is resilient enough to keep predators at bay, to keep everything at arm’s length, for fear of feeling


step right up ladies and gents, see the fool attempt a feat of extreme cowardice, is he man? is he armadillo? no one knows, another relic, an emotional contortionist crushed by the weight of his own missgivings

a nickel to see the manadillo, a rare specimen found hiding in a cave in north central texas

before he finally goes extinct

16 thoughts on “manadillo

              1. Focus in on the “sort of” part. That’s how I feel about dogs and cats and pets in general (except a miniature donkey… I will always want one – go on watch some videos of THOSE, I dare you)

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          1. Okay. Starting at “step right up….” until the end…. it becomes cute. It’s like the first 2/3s you were writing then caught sight of yourself reflected in your coffee or phone screen and subconsciously started writing cute because… you know… you are! Hahaha! (That’s my working theory at this point.)

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