all writings on this page are the creations and property of Cornelius Orange

cow bodied

I don't wear black and white
They all wanna moo at me
I have a muscle packed body made of soft features and rounded parts
My teeth are blunt made for chewing cud
I chew more than I swallow
Everyone asks me to consider and it's all that I do
I say "yeah, I'll chew on it."

I don't wear nose rings
They all wanna pull on em
I have a pink nose and doe eyes they want to plaster on the milk carton
I'm just the cutest thing, have you seen me?
Force-feeding in the corral
I'm that thing staining their dinner plates red
How's my portions?

dog faced

I was supposed to be Ruler of Everything
But I was born backwards
And now I'm a dog

Instead there's a pit bull in Heaven
Who likes to kick me when I'm down

As if the shock collar isn't bad enough
They've leashed me up
When I've been begging for the harness

These human beds are too big for me
And I'm not allowed to sleep on the couch

I wanna lay my head on the ottoman
Curl up at someone's feet
If I'm feeling dumb enough, I'll lick em clean

Dog eat dog world
As if we've all been born backwards
But it's really just me
Meeting god in the mirror
U^ェ^U___/
U U U U

alien angels

I heard if I tear myself open while getting sick in the porcelain throne

That alien angels would sew me up with better insides

If I sweat it out on these cool tiles where the sun is near and fragile

And shines so unnaturally blue

Then god is going to find me but she won’t be any god you or I have ever known

She will be an abstract hand holding back my hair that feels a lot like

“Mother” or “thing” or “construct”

But I’ve been very recently taught that no such concepts exist

Except in the way I beg them to

I’m not sure I’m actually learning any of these lessons

The grapevine told me that if I’m ever sick of being sick

Then I can rise up to the fountain of youth where lavish creams worth ten days of shifts

Can work their magic to make me ten years younger

But I’ve been affirming to myself that eight years old was not a good time for me

And I’d rather clear this brain fog haunting the looking glass

So I can fix my eyeliner and get back to the party

Cornelius Orange

untitled

Does it burn you to think about me so often?
Like the sun through your cornea piercing straight to the stem
If your skull split, letting off steam
Would your brain be well done?

I like mine raw like my liver
You need some vitamine A, take a bite
Right from the cub

They fly me on the flag of California

gaming

Gamer

We are like two gamers in the night

Crouching and jumping

Spinning even in abundant joy

Gamer may I compare thee

To a roblox skin

Many robux falling around us like cherry blossoms

Gamer, you are my gamer in arms

Everyday we frollic in Minecraft

And skip through vr chat

We have no vr chat donwloaded to our consoles

But we have it downloaded in our hearts

Gamer

You are

Gaming

age 16 on tiktok

I'd let you call me a waifu 'cus it's more of an object and less of a girl

It's so hard to be satire when the people that you're mocking have lost their minds

It's not so much about being a woman, it's more about being a parody

And the punchline of it all is that I'm imitating you

celeste

I'd love to love you if it meant I could gaze through your eyes

Instead of staring at the window in my closet

I don't like the people who appear there

So familiar but never a boy I can recognize

(Yeah, I'd rather gaze into your eyes)

I'm celeste

You're sienna

You're clay

You are sun

untitled

They call you a reckless storm so let me drink what you leave behind

They call you an enduring sea so let me be the moon pulling you closer

sunflower eyes

My father had sunflower eyes and a way of looking at me with all this hope

His laugh was the crunch of autumn leaves under foot

His types of smiles all recognizable but distinctly unique, like every kind of carnation under the sky

His sunflower eyes would crinkle at the edges, even in his softest smiles

Like creases in flower petals or cracks in the sidewalk where weeds grow through

My father was a perennial flower, I watched him wilt for months at a time but he always grew back in vibrant awe at simply being alive

His hands were always cool as stems despite the 85 degree summers, and I wondered how he survived in the cold

On the winter nights when my hometown would freeze over, he would turn up the AC and let us sleep in the frost

Unlike the roses in our garden, he never hid from the cold

My father seemed to hit everyone head on like the pine cones my friends and I would throw at each other

With him people either burst forth like red poppies in the summer or wilted away like overshadowed weeds

I think I might have done a bit of both

My father was never perfect, his raised voice was the crack and shaking of a tree crushing our front porch

Bees found themselves drawn to him and he’d never listen when I told him they sting

But I never expected him to be perfect, because for the longest time he was simply enough

He was the wild flowers that made me smile in the morning as I waited for the bus

He was the old oaks growing in the park, casting shade on sunburned kids

He is the overwhelming beauty I see every time I look to the sky

My father had sunflower eyes and a way of looking at me with all this hope

And there is not a second I don’t believe my mum when she tells me I have his eyes