Saturday, July 14, 2012

Poetry Corner 4

why do you cry like you have not a choice
why are you sad like you’re trying to go fix it
digging so deep like you want your own grave
lay in it, sleep, like I’m forcing you to do it
I don’t know what you’re doing
I don’t know what you’re doing

why is your sky oh so gloomy, my sweet?
pain clouds the sun like you need it to be dark now
was it so bright that it’s too much to bear?
darken the light like you think this will be better
I don’t know what you’re thinking
I don’t know what you’re thinking

why do you cry like you had not a choice
why do you hurt like I gave no chance to fix it
out of your mind you don’t know how to deal
why don’t you find an excuse, it’s what you do now…
you don’t know what you’ve done, dear
you don’t know what you’ve done, dear

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Real Things I've Said to Guys

If I had to choose between you and a miniature lap giraffe, I would consider you for a good couple of hours before going with the miniature lap giraffe.

I love your face so much I want to peel it off and wear it as my own.

If you had a van full of candy, I would not hesitate to get in.

You are what magic smells like.

You are more precious to me than the ring was to Gollum.

If you died, I would consider necrophilia.

I think you would taste good, like pineapples and sunshine and despair.

Out all the people I stalk, you are by far the 9th most interesting.

Sometimes I sneak into your house to sniff your pillow.

You look like you are in psychological state of content when you enter Morpheus's realm.

And so Zeus said onto Michelangelo "Ye shall take that marble yonder, the marble of the Gods, and ye shall mold us something spiffy." And so it was that your face came to be.

You look like you would be ok at angry sex.

I think we need to run away together to sing songs and grow oranges and be merry.

I have a voodoo doll of you. I lick its face every Tuesday.

I think of you when I touch my hair.

I wanna be your baby's momma.

Would you like to hear the names I picked out for our children?

I love you like a necrophiliac loves an open casket.

I feel comfortable committing murder for you.

You must be stage 3 syphilis, 'cause I can't get you out of my head.

Everytime you smile, God revives a kitten he killed everytime someone masturbated.

When we're apart, I miss you more than a stormtrooper misses his target.

One of my favourite hobbies is taking pictures of you with my phone when you're not looking and then photoshoping out all of your many, many flaws so you can be just as pretty on the outside.