Second Skin

“Oh, it’s going to show them.
Let’s give it one or two more seasons and they’re gonna be back.
Oh how they laughed at me. Oh, how I suffered; not being able to move properly- to squat- the pain, when going to the bathroom, the constant pinching in my crotch!

You, with your stone-cold washed hearts, you are going to be on the loose end when the knot gets tighter; when the Jeans finally become the tightly cut twill they ought to be. Wrapped around my legs, like the unrelenting grasp of death’s boney embrace.

Cotton twill as sweet as candy.
Cotton twill as hard as marble. Accurately chiseled, as heroes antique.

Why the wide cut? What are you trying to hide? I got nothing to hide; a bulge, leaving nothing to interpretation, as I flex my leg muscles to kick your baggy-ass on the ground giving you the used look, my seams rip a bit, barely being able to contain the muscle mass squeezed inside.

Your dirty look is nothing but shit-stains out of fear of my shiny, well-formed skinny Jeans.
I will never take them off again. The skinny Jeans stay on during sex, during showering, in the gym

Slowly but surely, I am becoming one with the skinny Jeans.

From skinny Jeans to Jeggins to Jegs; I have become the Jeans, destroyer of denim. Distressing the textile like cut up skin. As you cut my Jeans my poisonous blood spills indigo blue.

And finally, they have become my second skin.