Wind that blows so hard today carry me away on the strength of your wind sweep off my feet Fly me far away from here where so many painful memories lay swiftly sweep of my feet Take me with you to were ever you do blow to another place another time to another day far far away
I wanted to write a poem About a boy named melancholy Problem is I ran out of words to describe him The thing about being melancholy is that there’s no reason to it And the boy named melancholy is devoid entirely of melanin At least, in his skin Hair and eyes, that’s a different story His skin is snow white and his hair is often mistaken for black But the stepmother in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs scared him so that he couldn’t watch the movie Dwarfs, though, in the title, he always knew had been spelt wrong And the thing about a boy named melancholy is there’s not enough to say and too much to say Allowing the combination to be something much too complicated for a human brain The human brain in question, of course, is entirely a trick of our entity I am a boy named melancholy Without necessarily wanting to be And I’m scared Because I’m so tired of pretending that I’m going to be a boy forever I’m so tired of pretending that I’m a kid I will never be a kid again I’m still never sure if I even want to live to seventeen Because honestly what’s the point in going on if you’re still going to tell yourself you’re not nearly as fantastic as people are claiming I’m bringing guns to knife fights and I’m still always the loser cause I forgot that the way mental illness works, all these duels are with your own head I hate being sick I hate having to fight with myself all the time I just want to be a normal kid I want to go home And sometimes I feel like that’s too much to ask I’m fourteen Begging to be fourteen And begging to be able to commit a couple crimes and get away with it To have my first kiss and have my heart broken Anything is better than this I just want to be fourteen Let me be fourteen ‘Cause let’s face it, I never had the chance to be thirteen Or twelve Eleven or ten I just had to suffer
she did the chicken head dance hips swayed like an evangelist of the lascivious slicky, sticky, dicky happily sicky ******* swallow flooding her gullet with spits, spats and waterfalls for 300 gooey miles like a Deer at a salt lick to horney to send picture post cards
and her mouth sparkled a regurgitating anthem of love and a billion solar immolations in the great howling milky way roadtrip
she moving moveless with big pleading eyes like fruit orbs fetched in molasses full of grace stretched out her long neck like a Modigliani and ravished him with cautionless lips lush and fluted throat like a scorched desert deranged for monsoons cloudburst
It's time to wake up. It's time to burn It's time to use the kaleidoscope of life. It is time to flow and create weapons to spread love. It's time to close the bibles and not talk about idols. It's time to stop begging for mercy. It's time to let the girls dream. It's time to stop regretting lost things. It's time to use time. It's time to let the sun burn my skin.
It's time to wake up Today we will not go home. Today we are going to be happy girls in white dresses. We do not want to look pretty today. Today we are going to be ***** for our skin to breathe. Today we go to the land where everything is good, where we can scream. Today we go to a place where people do not talk about the things we do for fun. Today I want to stop hearing people complain. Today I want to count the coins that we do not know for what. Today I do not want to hear people flaunt. Today we're shaving our heads. Today we're going to let people blow. Today we will dream while the moon controls our dreams. Today we just want to appreciate how the sea is blue.
She had eyes like a crater, Innocent as any girl could be. I think she had some bruises when I met her, But it never seemed to deter me.
I chased her like a dog chasing tails, Was only then I started to notice her ***** nails. And then those Yellow eyes, Blue and Yellow never look pretty to my mind.
She belled me with croaky breathes of air, I rushed to her house shook and scared. She was slumped against a wall with the choker she used to wear, Strapped around her arm and specks of ***** in her hair.
She's got track marks like a craters, Darkness lay dormant in her soul. A once natural and elegant Beau, Now alone in the world of ****** and Blow.