A Fact About My Penis – A Poem

I have very little to say,
So I’ll say this.
I dropped my electric razor,
On my naked penis.

I was in a rush, okay?
I was late for work,
Had to work all day,
On three hours sleep,
My mind all waste and decay,
So I was taking off my clothes,
Glancing out the open windows,
Turning on the shower,
Because heating up takes half an hour,
And looking at my reflection,
And feeling my morning erection,
And reaching for the spinning blades,
Like I do on all work weekdays,
And moving to shave my stubble beard,
And thinking about how completely weird
I must look standing here,
Razor in hand,
Completely nude,
Shower tap running,
Fleshy extrude,
When my attention shifts for one second too long.
I drop the razor, all sign of it gone.
I look down.
There’s blood.
A stinging pain.
A droplet of dark red rain.
A blackened splotch, like a bruised, thick vein.

My heart stops for a while.
My stomach fills up with acid and bile.
My whole world goes real, real slow.
But then I remember. No time. I have to go.
The shower water is warm and distracting.
The work day is long and distraction protracting.
The damage is done, todays minor penis compacting.
Truth is, I’m probably just overreacting.

Well, I guess I’d better go and see,
What’s left, down there, of extended me.

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