The Flush Chronicles

A Poem by Vixenpixie

A poem about special toilet time

It’s full, the feeling within my lower belly
Profound, my brain shall process the quivers that bother me
It pulls me in places that numerous names have been given to
Under my skin, there’s alertness
And the understanding has taken root
I must pay attention with these goose pimples
Almost like panic, almost like a thrill
I let out a little one
Enough to make me smile
I can see their faces squeeze in annoyance
Their noses become wrinkled, almost fighting such presence
I squeeze my muscles tight
Feel the anticipation even more
It spreads like a warm virus
It matures, my abdomen getting heavier
Each step towards this room
Like walking towards an execution
This white bowl should be glorified
For it shall hold the purge of my essence
My thigh muscles have gone taut
I will wait no more as a “blomp”
The release that feels so good
My abdomen is free of tumult
My sigh is so full of liberation
And here surrounded by these tight walls
The resonance of the bubbling flush
Represents the end of an awaited era.