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Small and black, or maybe red
Tiny feet and a tiny head
If an ant like this were to walk into sight
I would let it be
**** it, you might
That is not me
That is not right
Because you are bigger, you think you are better
But life is life, and weather is weather
You could be born small some day
And when you are,
I hope they scare you away
Or maybe stomp on your flesh
You'll be small and black, or maybe red
But after they stomp,
You will be dead
I went from rain to clouds,
then clouds to mist.
I was gone for a while;
please tell me what I missed.

I went from mist to leaves,
then leaves to sun.
I am here now;
please tell me where I'm from.
She slides down the bed like a serpent on a tree.
She moves like the ocean, and she's coming for me.
Her hair is like silk, and her eyes are divine.
Her lips are so soft, and her **** is my shrine.
She dances so slowly that I have to weep.
She asks to come in, and I'll be hers to keep.
Her toes start to curl as I bite her powder neck.
Her scent keeps me sane, for I am a wreck.
Be present, they said
But I am more gone than here
More Far then Near
I was not made for all of this
I'm sorry
But if I don't think about the future, then I'll be here forever
And if that hurts I'm sorry too
I would love you if I could and
I'd offer an explanation if I had one
But comfort is overrated and confusion suits you
I guess I'd just rather feel desired than wanted
I'm not flattered by gimme
Don't you dare need me because
That might wreck my mind
I can love you for the time
That it takes me to realize that we won't conquer the world and that's just fine
I'm not as cold I am
I promise I'm not
I love a lot
Maybe you need to be grandfathered in to intimacy
It's as good an explanation as any
Or maybe
My oxytocin maker's out of order
I think it's
The universe telling me not to tie myself up in the knots
Of another person's tangles
Because I was
Not
Made for this
If you have issues with drugs you'd always talk to Frank
If you were having money troubles you'd go straight to the bank
But if you had to vent your anger
To whom would you go
Well here's a little secret from someone in the know

When you have the need to vent
There's no better man to call, than the vent'i'taker - stress collector
Or just for short Paul.

He will take on all your aggression and shred it nice and small
As once he has done that there will be no stress at all.

He can cut up people also...but that's a very bad thing to ask,
As if Paul got caught...he would be straight in jail.
And very very fast.
Poem by Josh Morter ©

a silly poem i jotted down as an attempt to cheer someone up. I think it worked
Do you still remember
That night that we met?
Out on the dock
Playing truth or dare?
And you walked over,
Cause there was your friend?

My dear,
The second I saw you,
I knew I was hooked.
By the way that you stood.
I knew that I wanted you,
I knew you were too good.

The thing is, my dear,
That I was wrong.
You went with the flow,
And strung me along.
We talked every day,
You even showed me that song.

Then that night,
You know the one.
You were in town,
And we wanted to have fun.
So I snuck out to meet you,
And my life then just begun.

From the second we first kissed,
I knew I was stuck.
The way you tasted,
Like brandy and scotch.
The way you tasted,
I just couldn't get enough.

But then, it was over.
In the blink of an eye.
You made out with her then,
But was I really surprised?
Did I really expect I was something special?
Did I really expect I was one of a kind?

Of course not, my dear.
I just should have known.
She's more special than I,
And no, I'm not mad.
I know that I don't deserve
An explanation of why.
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