Take a breath,
scratch those meaty pecks and arms.
Pantyhose, hot air, sweaty heads.
I feel the anger in my fist.
Cheese, secured doors and rooms,
Nothing but yelling and screaming in my head.
Liquor, ice, cold floors.
I hesitate, bare to move a muscle on the bed.
The cold winds freeze my fingers, I can't text you back.
Rough nights, feet fights, lip biting parties every Saturday.
I punch the room, you think I'm clingy.
Hungry for everything,
Yet don't want anything.
I sit back and watch destruction of bombs and nudes from my window.
Isn't thou so lovely?
Churned stomach, gasping for air, gasping for school to end.
God. Has. A. Plan.
Lingerie silk on the kitchen counter.
Feeling on the gold.
Static TV wrecking my ears and mind.
I love the smell of liars in the air.
Does this make sense to you?
If not, look within yourself.
Everything has a symbol, irony, metaphor.
Slap that lion for attention,
He'll roar till the moon is full.  
Think what you see on this page.
I'll catfish your soul and succulent body.