You like me for the me that doesn’t make your coffee strong enough
the me that always seems to make you late
the me that almost burns a batch of cookies
the me that can't park straight to save my life
the me that absolutely hates being tickled
the me that takes some comments a little too sensitively
the me that keeps you up too late and makes you lose sleep
the me that never fully succeeds at using chopsticks
the me that takes a lifetime to decide what to eat
the me that insists you must trim your mustache
the me that needs your shoulder to cry on
the me that worries this “me” is too needy

And somehow you can put your hands right on my deepest insecurities
Exposing my vulnerabilities while covering me gently with love
Because I know I’m safe in your arms and you make me want to believe the sweet words you say.

We said maybe.
Well, maybe I reminded you of her.
Maybe you were a dog returning to his *****.
Maybe I was the closest one to give myself away.
Maybe there's no use in maybe.

My life has been molded
by the world of 15 minute increment agendas
and 150 character updates by the second.

My body has been pacified
by the world of liquid sugar satiation
and instant edible gratification.

My mind has been conditioned
by the world that favors extroverted personalities
and introverted abdomens and collarbones.

I live, move and breathe
in the world that is scared of freethinkers
and will not succeed in boxing me in.

In my world, I define my own worth.

I may as well make you slither
On the underside of your belly
For the rest of your ****** days
Seeing how you have deceived me
And then covered a wound with dust.

On a new site...
Don't know most of you.
The age old story.
I have the blues.

It's Friday night.
I'm all alone.
Not even a ring
On my cellular phone.

I'd do some real writing
(and this really bites)
But I've been reposting
Older writes.

I don't know
If this has happened to you
But my muse came down
With the "blue flu"!

I've been on here reading.
I'm sad as can be!
Twelve year olds
Are writing better than me!

I can take that, I guess it's fate.
But I'm in a terrible state!

I can take the lack of steam.
I can take the lack of dreams.
I can take it all it seems...

... but don't have my drug o choice...

... ICE CREAM!!!

:/

Militant blue jays,
Secure area in uniform,
Splitting shells of nuts.

My mother once told me that spontaneous love dies with age
that boys who set up those tea light candles
let the romance dim along with the wick
And the girls who marvel over the fact that that shirt smells like him
let his love fade like the now unnoticeable scent
After awhile realistic love is what pumps through the heart
It's more Hi, how was your day from across the kitchen
and less Hey, what are you thinking about whispered sweetly into the ear
My mother once told me that realistic love is better
but really every girl, no matter the age, wants to have musicless dances in the living room
Or unexpected embraces, with his arms wrapping around her waist just because
No girl wants realistic love even if that's what she accepts