S
sputnikgirl
Guest
strawberries.?
sometimes, you just want to die.
you know??
sometimes it's all razor blades in hips and sunlight
reflecting like jellys and jams and anything sweet that makes you smile.?
sometimes its water spraying like machine *** fire.?
sometimes your face is entirely made of glass.?
chemistry.?curly hair, hothothot. god. whew. god.??
concrete.?the fact?remains
that the?s.h.a?p.e..?of this poem
doesnt?have anything to do with?the fact?that
iloveyou
it is just that; that isnt good enough for you and ?
neither is?this?p?a?t?t?e?r?n??
bubby.?change your clothes?'cause we're going to the park?to play like ********?until it gets dark?bring something dry?in case it rains.?save what you're wearing?for work or for winter?because we've got?********* to reenter.???
sentiment.?It's going to be really hard to ***** when all you can think of are his beautiful eyelashes, His kiss, and His soft skin. It's going to be even harder to get comfortable after lying in bed with her.???
terrible.?cars and clouds are everywhere.
it's thursday and it's raining?
i'm happy for the thunder
i'm tired of complaining.
?i can play in puddles like an ocean
i can swim in.?a time when i don't need notes.
not paper and not ringing.?
i can't see the birds but i can still hear all their singing.?
the bathroom's all together and i'm soaked in something cleaner.?
nothing here was thought of in the spring or the summer?
but winters going to end maybe next week or another?
and when i shut the coffin lid i know it will be storming??
I've painted a picture in red paint on my roots, you know.?
You know, on my roots, a pretty site were I a boy who loves snow.?Who loves snow is one I take for granted too often, it seems.?It seems that too often, I take for granted,
similar things.???
desperation redux.?snowed again;
i sure do love the way things are
wet and white and wet and white
and it goes on and on and on and on
and?it's cold and that's okay
because i love the way that things are cold?
i sure do need to be freezing?or ********, or something??
bumper sticker.
god is coming, so look busy
warm, calloused hands
have nothing to worry about
i am jobless
humiliated, betrayed
by stiff little fingers
colorless and fragile
all my hopes left hanging
on Emerson and Thoreau
nothing can save the American
from America.
Pirouette.
I starve myself
Until my hip bones become a primitive saw
Longing to cut him in half
I erase all evidence I was once human
Because you are nobody
Until he pretends to love you.
suburban kansas.
Mall-watching is all flinging hips, pursed lips mocking no-one. ****** slaves to the ******** of ambition borne out of furtive touches and shame behind football fields and under bleachers. Pray to gods of commerce to spare her the fate of the fallen disco queens and bouffant haired housewives. Shopping bags carried as ----- penance as her pie-eyed progeny master the art of the superficial.
sometimes, you just want to die.
you know??
sometimes it's all razor blades in hips and sunlight
reflecting like jellys and jams and anything sweet that makes you smile.?
sometimes its water spraying like machine *** fire.?
sometimes your face is entirely made of glass.?
chemistry.?curly hair, hothothot. god. whew. god.??
concrete.?the fact?remains
that the?s.h.a?p.e..?of this poem
doesnt?have anything to do with?the fact?that
iloveyou
it is just that; that isnt good enough for you and ?
neither is?this?p?a?t?t?e?r?n??
bubby.?change your clothes?'cause we're going to the park?to play like ********?until it gets dark?bring something dry?in case it rains.?save what you're wearing?for work or for winter?because we've got?********* to reenter.???
sentiment.?It's going to be really hard to ***** when all you can think of are his beautiful eyelashes, His kiss, and His soft skin. It's going to be even harder to get comfortable after lying in bed with her.???
terrible.?cars and clouds are everywhere.
it's thursday and it's raining?
i'm happy for the thunder
i'm tired of complaining.
?i can play in puddles like an ocean
i can swim in.?a time when i don't need notes.
not paper and not ringing.?
i can't see the birds but i can still hear all their singing.?
the bathroom's all together and i'm soaked in something cleaner.?
nothing here was thought of in the spring or the summer?
but winters going to end maybe next week or another?
and when i shut the coffin lid i know it will be storming??
I've painted a picture in red paint on my roots, you know.?
You know, on my roots, a pretty site were I a boy who loves snow.?Who loves snow is one I take for granted too often, it seems.?It seems that too often, I take for granted,
similar things.???
desperation redux.?snowed again;
i sure do love the way things are
wet and white and wet and white
and it goes on and on and on and on
and?it's cold and that's okay
because i love the way that things are cold?
i sure do need to be freezing?or ********, or something??
bumper sticker.
god is coming, so look busy
warm, calloused hands
have nothing to worry about
i am jobless
humiliated, betrayed
by stiff little fingers
colorless and fragile
all my hopes left hanging
on Emerson and Thoreau
nothing can save the American
from America.
Pirouette.
I starve myself
Until my hip bones become a primitive saw
Longing to cut him in half
I erase all evidence I was once human
Because you are nobody
Until he pretends to love you.
suburban kansas.
Mall-watching is all flinging hips, pursed lips mocking no-one. ****** slaves to the ******** of ambition borne out of furtive touches and shame behind football fields and under bleachers. Pray to gods of commerce to spare her the fate of the fallen disco queens and bouffant haired housewives. Shopping bags carried as ----- penance as her pie-eyed progeny master the art of the superficial.
