kiss my lips
tell me i'm pretty

grab my thighs
tell me you miss me

clutch my hips
tell me I'm your only one

look me straight in the eyes
tell me you need me

break my heart
and tell me you love me.

drown me in your blue eyes
i'll bury you in my brown ones
infamous star-crossed lovers
we might just be the death of each other

s.s

i want you
in every way there is to want a person

from lazy rainy days
sitting around in underwear
wrapped up in the covers
enveloped in each other

to lustful late nights
high happy and in love
too absorbed with each other
to focus on anything else

i want you
and i see so much in you
that counting all your perfections
would be like counting the stars
there's too many to keep track of
and they just seem endless

i am utterly in love
with every inch of your being
every corner of your mind
and everything in between

i might not know what i believe
or where i'm going
or what i'm doing
but i do hope
you'll hold my hand
and wander blindly with me
because as long as i'm with you
i don't need a destination
you are the journey

i am simply enamored with your entity
captivated by your character
fascinated
infatuated
amorous
in love

I felt,
My lungs,
Collapse,
My heart,
Stopped,
And all you did,
Was look,
At me,
With blank eyes,
And no thought.

This is the story of Fitzy McKowski Obromovich Brown.
He lived in a brownstone in the center of town.

There was a young lady that Fitzy did favor.
Every meeting they had, he made sure to savor.

His friends would insist that his love wasn't right.
But ole Fitzys resolve wouldn't give up the fight.

They said "Fitzy you're slow and a tad too dumb."
And to all their pleas, Fitzy grew numb.

She was too witty too beautiful to be but a thought.
A future barstool story, a what if and ought.

So Fitzy got dressed, he bought flowers and ****.
He found her and asked her lickity split.

They watched Fitzys chin drop down to his chest.
His friends would give Fitzy a wide berth to rest.

One old man hobbled up to ask her why she'd turn ole Fitzy down.
"Because my name is Francesca McKowski Obromovich Brown!"

A strewn learner sticker

His ego was always too thick



Too thick for glass

A windscreen stood no chance



Now mourners melanchol

Of a young man taken



His mother saw the real him

She saw the fake



"A little angel" they say

Certainly the one he took away

A bee here
another there
the bee catchers busily chase

enjoy every bit
hit and miss
miss and hit

the urge to live is the sugar
sweetens the grind
keeps death out of mind.

If you keep death in mind
high is the cost
in the momentary dying
life is lost.