I Miss Being Disgusting

There were moments 

Earlier on

When the thought 

And thoughts 

Of cross 

Breeding 

Touches

From areas of trash

Spoiled bits

Staining 

And grit

Would have 

Had me

Leaving trails

Of dust

Of

May very own 

I trained 

I fought 

I got through 

Without loosing a finger 

Or two

And now

Well 

The training was new

But the theories 

Were not

For now

Not for naught

Still 

Burning

And lighting 

Pain of thought 

Through 

All

Of the wet to dry

Chemical sifting 

And placing items

This way 

Not that

Under cover and overloaded

Never blindly handling

This torque 

In ‘havior 

Has trellised 

An invasive vine

Truly 

Unruly 

Embeddedly 

Into my broken soul

I miss being disgusting