He watched the moon, As it became immune To his galaxy eyes. Silver liquid flowing, The night's come to a closing, As he mixed his 'sky dye.' At least, that's what the stars said, As each one rubbed his head Goodnight. Colored images glowing, His eyelids began lowering, As he, again, was forced to fight-
What if I like what is underneath Flocks these days admire on what is in the cover Tainted and glittered nails But what if I rip the skin off and study the parts of it? That way I can admire the beauty of having such a body part Glitzy notebooks are a thing When I can have a notebook with just a mere dot as a design That way no one will be able to steal them Because I am the only who knows the beauty of it Everyone dances to the music they heard of While I am just here listening to non-existent sounds Everybody befriends the charismatic person in the room But what if I like distorted overgrowns Even when he shot daggers Talks to himself and paints the world as if he owns it? Tell me what is good taste When it is there surrounding me Your eyes just do not switch to an owl's yet Isn't life full of hidden kalopsa? Even if I still do not have William's tongue to describe them? When you are at your worst I may not help you instantly Since I cannot help but be mesmerized by your mistakes You are even more beautiful to me when the side you hide the most flourish Even when everybody in this world hates you, I will find colors in your imperfections I will burst in laughter at them, not because you are foolish But you had the courage to show your real persona Everybody has different ideas for beauty But this is mine Like this poem You thought this is going to be pretty When I like what is underneath
We watch movies and repeatedly listen to songs Drawling on and on about the perfect, most passionate love. Soulmates; But if I loved the way I want, The way they do in the movies, Boom box outside your window, Traveling across the world at the drop of a hat, Grabbing your hand and dragging you out at night and early morning to watch stars and sunrises, The grand gestures. People would look at me like I was crazy. It would get old; To have someone who's eyes have glassed over with a rose colored shade.
You wouldn't live me. You wouldn't experience me.
You'd rather sit on your *** and watch me, portayed in bits and pieces, On your TV screen.