Bop, bob,
side-to-side,
digits like pretzeled onions,
smile like an unraveled whip,
same contour as the grandest of banana peel slips,
sun with sunglasses, grinning,
I'm in the hallway when I shouldn't be, with no slip,
questions have my eyes feeling pretzeled onions,
smiling like im not falling off a bike,
about to be,
side-to-side,
chinning the ground, against the cracks of life's whip,
It always seems like she's crying,
and sometimes I realize it's just me,
Also, there's almost, and then there's just not a thing,
nothing,
but a painting existing like a disease,
where the only question is
why...
May 20
May 20, 2026 at 7:57 AM UTC
Bop, bob,
side-to-side,
digits like pretzeled onions,
smile like an unraveled whip,
same contour as the grandest of banana peel slips,
sun with sunglasses, grinning,
I'm in the hallway when I shouldn't be, with no slip,
questions have my eyes feeling pretzeled onions,
smiling like im not falling off a bike,
about to be,
side-to-side,
chinning the ground, against the cracks of life's whip,
It always seems like she's crying,
and sometimes I realize it's just me,
Also, there's almost, and then there's just not a thing,
nothing,
but a painting existing like a disease,
where the only question is
why...