Kitten Pepper Kryptonite

By Avril Thurman and Kelly Tadge
{I may have taken some liberties here, I can't transcribe my own handwriting}

You lack your lip off a riger mortis, unnaturally nothing.
Your body isn't the land, this defecates you.
A sedentary cacophony to one horse staying.
The bed stains out your giving redness.
A sun isn't the albumen, this deshells them,
After you aren't cowering from good, an ill-designed, offbeat choice.
Or a sufficient sound expels thatself around a ribbon,
A sound, this dots thatself for a cloud, dislikes the mathematician.
Or non-affliction can gesticulate from affliction.
Spelling your kiss off a dictionary from space,
You forget where that isn't, of rejoice,
Or suffocate doom outside a monolithic pour, a recluse.
Or this you mustn't ravel yourself from, a lamb's loss from heaven.
Or banging unusual, old pavements off a sunny front, bastard writer.