The idea of living life, not just surviving, but actually LIVING life,

Is like the idea of Angels or Miracles or Night-visiting-aliens:

I've heard stories, but it's never actually happened to me.

I want to tug your head back by the hair
touch you, slowly, everywhere
kiss your lovely patient face
find every sensitive ticklish place
fill you with anticipation and joy
become your favorite vice and toy
I want to live inside your gentle arms
surprise you daily with sneaky charms
be your love, your passion, your girl
dance innocently with you forever
our hearts will sway and shake and twirl

-Scratches face-

"Y'all got any more of them rhymes?"

-Scratches face-

"I'll give ya a cheeseburger for some rhymes!"

-Scratches face-

Ladies and gentlemen,

Please keep your arms and legs

Safely inside the poetry at all times.

Please don't fall into the black hole,

We know it's very attractive,

But our insurance rates will just be unmanageable

If we lose another one...

I've got dyslexia,

I'm ADHD, and

I write poetry.

It's like a drunk,

One-eyed idiot

Trying to herd cats

That are on ****.

I take a whole week to celebrate my birthday,

Just to make sure I don't sweep it under the rug.

And I've worn a mask what feels like my whole life,

But October is, by far, my least favorite holiday.