I dont want my temporary happiness hanging from you, tugging at your lips
Felt beneath my hips, as I lie still under your kiss

Cause my happiness is like a vine
That no good ****, clinging on to bricks, splint with twine
Pretty in it's own way but poison when you touch

Pieces of it living in the crevices and cracks
Determined to come back, always to come back, to try just one more time.

I'm afraid my happiness will entangle you,
And dare I fall, will strangle you
Leaving you helpless as I drop

See, this feeling it is temporary,
Sadness blooms inside of me
No matter how many chemicals or pills I pop
Like an axe to the vine, gone with one chop, one feathered tick of the clock

Never meant to grow again, but nonetheless,
will never stop.

Sat-Set
English is a mess, mess.
Pat-Pet.
I am still confused yet.

Color-Colour.
I am still confused.
What am I to do?

Wind-When.
Spelling just isn't my friend.
Makes me wants to yell.

Ware, Where, Wear,
Do you think I care?
I might just throw my hands in the air.

Sum-Some.
These sounding words you wants to run from.

I give up.
If I spell the words wrong in a letter.
Then you figure it out.
Because the words I used got the message across.

I just know.
English is a mess.

Let us keep our fondest memories
clutched close to our chests.

For if they are lost,
the wind will sweep them away
or the sea will toss them into its abysmal blue.

Rather, let us tie them to the laces of our shoes -
              and take them always with us.
Tattoo them onto our intellects -
              and reminisce upon them often.
Lock them in our hearts
              Do not let them die until they
              all
              stop
              beating.