Words are just syllables
                   joined in confusion,
            love is an essence that is
                              felt, be it with subtle kisses
or just that one longing touch.

I just woke up and it dawn upon me, "I am single.!
however my energy is filled with loving thoughts from my past.
or is it misrepresented of truth?

Skinny girls have big *****,
and that's just no fun.
Sometimes when their pants drop,
it smells like fish and grot.
But that's okay, I'll lick it anyway,
be it the middle of the night
Or the dawn of a new day.
But baby when you ***
that sticky white goo,
I'll pop in a piece of gum
and then I'll leave you.

I must've heard the phrase
hundreds of times by now.
"My life's going to hell
in a handbasket."
Or some such variance.
Only recently have I become able
to tell you what that actually looks like.
See
you start with a cute wicker basket.
The kind grandma might give you muffins in.
Then you place all the things you've managed to hold onto
inside of it.
Your friends, your family, your job.
Next goes in all those possessions you hold dear.
Your car, your house, your dog.
Lastly
in go the intangibles.
Your hope.
Your dreams.
All your positive feelings.
Then you set the ******* on fire
and watch it all burn away.