Just Turds.

I'm finally out of prison and I'm looking forward to drinking the royalties that built up during my time inside.
There's been pressure building in my arse for months now that still hasn't shifted. Several times a night these last few nights I've woken up, covered in stale dry shit, desperatley wanting to change skids that I'm no longer able to change. The fuckers seem to be stuck to me. It is a terrifying thing to accept that when I've shit myself on particular days sometime at the end of last year, it solidified, and my skids are now set forever.
I woke up lying in the park at 3am last night trying to force a load out, trying to remember the feeling of laying a brown egg, of the serenity in squatting. I eventually remembered 'shit...scoop...and.. smell the freshness, and then lob it at some random passer by, But I couldn't get any comfort from even a turtles head of it. I'm bunged up solid!

They are just turds I keep telling myself, just, just turds... But it hasn't been easy letting go of them.