Why so serious? – m4m –  (inside my torso)
I’ve always been a sucker for the brooding, sensitive types. So when I glanced over my shoulder and saw you leaning against the inner wall of my hollowed-out ellipsoid body, with your eyes downcast and your tomatolike head cradled in your right hand, my interest was immediately piqued.
I didn’t have time to say hi, because a hooded man with an arrow sticking out of his rectum climbed the ladder into my torso and carried you away, kicking and screaming. But I still wonder, what was behind that mysterious, melancholy expression? If you’re reading, let’s get together and talk about it. Who knows, maybe I can put a smile on that tomato face. Describe my hat so I know it’s you.
your booty is music to my eyes – m4w –  (front row center)
at the risk of being disrespectful, I just have to say it: DAMN, dat azz! lol
i don’t know if you were in the band or just helping out by letting them read the score off your badonkadonk, but I was so busy checking you out I forgot to listen. i didn’t even notice the rat dude with the book on his head menacing me and my bros (we were naked in the front row)! haha good times. wanna make some beautiful music together? pull your head out from under that combination harp-lute and drop me a line!
Goodbye Charles… – treestronaut4rabbitcreature –  (Under the cape)
Color me surprised.
Remember what you said after our last night together, as you picked the leaves out of your fur, right before hopping out of my life? Because I do: you told me that you loved me. That you’d always remember me. That you wished more than anything we could be together, but you weren’t in the “right place.” That you needed some time get your head on straight. And, idiot I was, I believed you.
I was so devastated I stayed in bed for the next three weeks. I didn’t even leave the apartment to photosynthesize, so all my leaves shriveled and fell off. Thanks for that. Then, when I finally—finally—worked up the nerve to go out like I used to, who did I see under the Bird King’s cape but you, with your new lover asleep in your arms. Your soft, warm human lover. Guess you were lying when you said you liked my rough branches and shiny face bubble.
As we locked gazes, neither of us said a word. There was no sound except for the ploop-ploop, ploop, ploop-pl-ploop of money falling from a butt, into the water below. And the shame, the fear I saw in your beady eyes at that moment told me more than all our time together about the kind of rabbit you are.
Goodbye Charles. You’re out of my life, and my mind for good. I hope you two are happy together.
P.S. That frog tattoo? Trashy… just, trashy.