Sunday, October 28, 2012
Cover my legs with sand and trample all over my body
I want to bleed enough blood to make sharks take the initiative
to try to walk on land. I don't believe in vampires, I'm sorry.
I just want to kiss girls with green alien eyes, and purple skin.
Pour sand over my legs, do anything
I'm a slut, I feel ridiculous,
pour grains of salt over my mouth
I want kidney stones the size of boulders
bury my body in Austin
I want to be remembered for my beard and
not my beer belly
I am tired of voice mail and student loans
cover me in honey and pour alcohol into
my lungs
I want to be so drunk I can't remember
ever being drunk
fuck it, just kiss me now and pretend we
are in love
I am ready.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
I can't help but think about you, damn
If I could describe you with just one word it would be iconic
Damn me for liking everything about you
You make smoking cigarettes look seductive
I want to pour you in a glass of water and drink you
Lately I've been pretending you are all I need, toying with the idea that you could make happy
Pfft, as if
What I'm really saying is I want your lazy body next to mine
Come lay down with me
We can talk about raising children together and other things we might regret.
Damn me for liking everything about you
You make smoking cigarettes look seductive
I want to pour you in a glass of water and drink you
Lately I've been pretending you are all I need, toying with the idea that you could make happy
Pfft, as if
What I'm really saying is I want your lazy body next to mine
Come lay down with me
We can talk about raising children together and other things we might regret.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Lungs
I want to kiss you in ways I have never kissed anyone ever.
I want my existence and your existence to coexist together.
I want to smoke every cigarette you have ever smoked.
I want my lungs to be as black as your lungs.
Your lungs make me happy, I want to caress them and read them love poems.
In fact bring your lungs to me and I will ask them to marry me.
I am dead serious.
I love you the way my generation loves irony.
I want my existence and your existence to coexist together.
I want to smoke every cigarette you have ever smoked.
I want my lungs to be as black as your lungs.
Your lungs make me happy, I want to caress them and read them love poems.
In fact bring your lungs to me and I will ask them to marry me.
I am dead serious.
I love you the way my generation loves irony.
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