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The Stereotypical Anti-Hipster
Slippery Rock    twitter: @angedeluc57 instagram: angelina1157 John 13:7 and my brother are probably the only two reasons why I'm still breathing.
I love people. Almost as much as Hummus. Almost.


Justin Harris Jun 2015
I saw you for the first time
Behind a screen
Dressed in grey.
Brown and beautiful,
and a wearing a beanie
It was your crown

You smiled at times
And I stared in awe
My screen screamed snapshot
But I was to grasped in the moment to think
My heart beated furiously
Intoxicated by a fiery passion

Then on one faithful day
I saw you
You experience me
I layed down my lips
On thine lips of my craving
Two heart beating for you

For only one that satisfies me
I am facing you
And you, my shoe
Blushing and cringing
I lift up your face;
exquisite; a light in the dark.

I kiss you one time,
and I say to you these lines,
Come with me
Your hipster man
and hold on tight
Grip my hipster hand

Stand close to me
My hipster bride
As you my love
Swiftly hug me tight.
Our hipster heaven
Is sealed off tight

A world unknown
In my hipster mind.
Your sweet hipster lips
Press against oh me, oh my
This is where feels come from.
Shutting you up one kiss at a time

With hipster might.
Your hipster lips
Wage war with mine.
The freedom of my hipster mind.
We are conscience now.

We love; ebullient.
Perfectly written
To excogitate.
I love you more than
Your hipster mind can comprehend.
It can't ever be put in words.

You're my hipster wife.
I'm your one true love and..
..your hipster husband.
You hipster lips.
I hunger for, i'm starving.
My hipster source of hipster life.

I feed you love.
You are always first.
Living like mitty
Means nothing to me
If you aren't happy.
Living mitty with me.
b e mccomb Jul 2016
what a
what a
i could be.

i've got enough
plaid shirts and
iconic sneakers
might need a few
more pairs of
skinny jeans

my coffee
sure high enough
and i'm about as
bitter as my brew
before the sugar.

what a
what a
i could be.

if i changed my
music collection
and got thicker
glasses in an attempt
to see through my
own blindness

it would be a
simple matter
to disown my
sense of self
and buy a
flower crown.

what a
what a
i could be.

for now i'll
stay myself
and acknowledge
that nonconformity
the blissful irony
that i just don't try.
Copyright 12/2/15 by B. E. McComb