he had them so for as long as he could remember they became apart of his personality but i don't think metal rings could be a trait
but to him, that's what made him... him
besides the liquor and cigarettes the guitars and midnight lustful *** in motel rooms
he tasted like tobacco and liquor if i concentrate hard enough my tongue will take me back to the familiar taste
he didn't like his curls so he would straighten his hair it's not rock and roll! he would always tell me
you see, the metal rings on the side of his lip were the first thing i ever noticed about him and those same exact rings were the last thing i tasted before he disappeared
for once this poem is about someone else haha! but this is about a fling i had that i deeply regret sometimes