Finger to lips
Icing to lick
Smiles come with drips

Heavy words can be syrup or iron ores
Either way they are anchors

Never mind creed
Love can feel like a chore

I got my hang ups
I got my fists
Hanging on to phrases that chap my lips
And destroy my finger tips


People should point at something
Like they are certain

I thought I would by now have to rely on one person
Only human nature to count on
Like a ******* I want my cake too
No icing left
I need something new