Sep 2013
Once Upon A time, there was a small white house, with a white picket fence, and an impossible to get out of driveway. There lived a girl who loved to eat. I remember her as loving to eat she lived directly across the street, and I know size does not determine the makeup of a person, but she did not look like she loved to eat. She was thin.
She loved water, swimming, drinks poured until the cups were brimming
Family guy and Ink master she was molded like plaster
to the screen on the tv in her environment where she felt serene.
I remember a five foot seven girl pumping the pedals on a way too small yellow bicycle
as difficult as trying to melt butter on an icicle
she was strong, and she loved colors.
She was the youngest of two sisters and a brother, make no mistake there were others.
Scout Biddy Boo Jazz and Bella too, Jazz had a special spark in her bark.
Whenever I came into the kitchen, Jazz would be crazy itchin for me to give her attention. She’d lie on her back, belly up, with sweet brown eyes like chocolate syrup and I could never resist.
There are things in life that some of us can just never resist.
Like an all-expenses paid free trip to Hawaii, or just really fresh pineapple.
I can never resist reading the cap of a Snapple, but I’ve saved a lot of money with this girl I knew who lived in a small white house with a white picket fence and an impossible to get out of driveway, because she already knew all of the facts.
She already knew a lot of things, I’m sure she still already knows a lot of things.
I don’t know what exactly she does know as the continuation of time remains in constant flow,
I have not talked to her in a while or so.
But if I had the ability, to travel back in time and reinvent any crime,
I’d go to the moment before she signed her soul to the devil.
I’d rip the pen from her hand like a splinter
that’s been stinging her family’s index finger for way too long.
I’d erase that moment from history and if she wasn’t such a ******* mystery,
I’d be able to turn on my local cable and not worry about seeing her face on the TV.
I need to stop thinking about that because I know I’m never gonna call this cat, until a hurricane hits a city, leaving it calm and serene or until she approaches me and wants to get clean.
She loved water, swimming, drinks poured until the cups were brimming
Family guy and Ink master she was molded like plaster
to the screen on the tv in her environment where she felt serene.
I remember a five foot seven girl pumping the pedals on a way too small yellow bicycle
as difficult as trying to melt butter on an icicle
she was strong, and she loved colors.
She was the youngest of two sisters and a brother, make no mistake there were others.
Scout Biddy Boo Jazz and Bella too, Jazz had a special spark in her bark.
Whenever I came into the kitchen, Jazz would be crazy itchin for me to give her attention. She’d lie on her back, belly up, with sweet brown eyes like chocolate syrup and I could never resist.
There are things in life that some of us can just never resist.
Like an all-expenses paid free trip to Hawaii, or just really fresh pineapple.
I can never resist reading the cap of a Snapple, but I’ve saved a lot of money with this girl I knew who lived in a small white house with a white picket fence and an impossible to get out of driveway, because she already knew all of the facts.
She already knew a lot of things, I’m sure she still already knows a lot of things.
I don’t know what exactly she does know as the continuation of time remains in constant flow,
I have not talked to her in a while or so.
But if I had the ability, to travel back in time and reinvent any crime,
I’d go to the moment before she signed her soul to the devil.
I’d rip the pen from her hand like a splinter
that’s been stinging her family’s index finger for way too long.
I’d erase that moment from history and if she wasn’t such a ******* mystery,
I’d be able to turn on my local cable and not worry about seeing her face on the TV.
I need to stop thinking about that because I know I’m never gonna call this cat, until a hurricane hits a city, leaving it calm and serene or until she approaches me and wants to get clean.
