Behind the wall of Diapers no one can see me nourish dead legs into specialty canes. The salts eating tissue to the bone. The hunger of my stomach chiseling the muscle. The baby on the diaper package beckoning me on with a plastic fire in his mulatto eyes. You can't judge me, you're the only one keeping me safe. I am afraid of you. I am apart of you. Life is a bicycle on a graham cracker road. Boogers=Milk. Behind the wall of Diapers.
Behind the Wall of Diapers a song has sung its song when singing has sang its sanction. The diatribe of pitter patter. The pitter patter of little teeth. The secret of stacking raisins is to pull back the skin. The secret to pulling back skin is to feel nothing. Scabs are the looking glass behind the Wall of Diapers. Forced excretion is the floor wax behind the Wall of Diapers.
Behind the Wall of Diapers, I do not know my name. I do not share a commonality with the most coopertively breeds of dog. I do not like my ice shake or stirred or even served to me. I am an oven I am creator I am channeling. Behind the Wall of Diapers.
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