Do you call me baby girl because you don't take me for a woman?
Treating love like child's play,
As I go from pulling pink love me not petals from roses,
To the own hairs on my head.
You say girls are just crazy,
Too complex for you,
Treating us like some kind of,
Chinese maze-rubik cube.
We're more like 20q.
When you come home from a night with the boys,
And we're giving the four W's.
But sweet boy you reek of her perfume.
Cheap flowery scent of female, £5.99 at Boots?
You act like you didn't choose.
As I sniff the scent of pink petal roses,
On your shirt and on your neck.
White shoulder,
Bruised baby blue.
As you baby girl me till your face turns blue,
But I can't even look at you.
Because who?
Who's lips were on neck?
What do you expect to happen next?
When there's lipstick on your collar,
And her caller ID is a private number.
Why did I pick you?
Like the beautiful flower in bloom,
How could I not realise that it was you?
The sour taste like perfume in my mouth,
Fingers like thorns,
Empty wishes filling my heart with love me nots.
But then maybe it's me,
Innocent pink petal pulling herself apart,
But baby boy, baby boy.
My pink blood runs blue.
You can try pluck my petals,
But it'll never make a man out of you.
- p.d.e
This was written as a spoken word poem, I like to read some aloud kinda like slam poems. But I still wanted to share never the less.