Life told me to eat a bag of dicks.
I did not eat the bag of dicks.
Instead
I braided the dicks
like hair or rope
and wove a blanket
out of them,
for display only
because why would I
let life win like that

I hung it
over the mantelpiece
my favorite
conversation starter:

                                            Let me tell you the story of how I received a bag of dicks
                                                from Life one morning and made the best of it. Here’s how
                                                I took the dicks life handed me and made something
                                                out of them. The different shades of skin, I used like
                                                quilting, patterns passed down, patterns Gramma
                                                would be proud of, the loose skin creating texture and
                                                weight, the dicks only having meaning from how I’ve
                                                worked them. Out of all my trophies, this I made with my
                                                own hands, repulsive as it was, and look—

                                                                                    It’s finally stopped bleeding