Fine, you electrify heart of mine Electrify our golden time Can't look at those eyes Without sparkling skies
Fine, don't gas me up with lies Because it cuts me into size We can fly together with multiple tries And have sweet compromise
I'm fine, I know we'll rise Even I can't look at those eyes Because with your eyes I can vaporize But with you I can suffice Maybe I can survive With your sweetest eyes That makes me vaporize It makes my heart pop likes dynamite
We're fine, we'll make it through time Just like hikers and mountains we'll climb Through ups and downs we'll be fine Because there's a sign That we'll shine Just be mine.
I'm hoping we're gonna be okay. Inspired by jack stauber's song "buttercup"
I searched this book full of words Something that could describe him Wouldn't know how to put in terms Just as I found nothing That understood the greatness behind his gaze.
[D] could go for the Density of the metal that protruded from his chest The blade was shining autonomously like the crimson full moon On Werewolf Territory Day Like a piece of wood thrown into the fire I could see the flame in his eyes.
There was the beauty but the beauty Was nothing but fear His words gave me shivers as I walked throught the path I wonder what would be like to define him Would the words be real just like him? But would he be real or would he be smudged ink passages In this old moldy diary smelling like also old roses.
[I] would go for Imagination, place where he crossed me Like a wild horse running from the storm in the field He had worries all over his mind but couldn't show anyone Selfish way to say he had feelings over the scary sense.
Beauty had no name But if I knew his, I would surely call it by Beauty is his name Had no harms but had such a charm I could feel it in his eyes The look he gave me I never saw before.
[C] would go for Coward But that honestly applied more to me He tried and insisted once and twice Maybe more, but I had no ears back in then I was deaf by the occurrences.
Tried to warn me That things wouldn't be my way Nor would they stay the same I said I would try.
[T] would go for Tactless Something I wished he was not I wouldn't feel his power on me now If he wasn't, but we don't get what we want Is it what I truly want or am I the tactless?
Once his fingers ran down my skin like dance in the rain I could feel the warm touch he had on his fingertips To be honest I was scared, that was new And they say the new is good but that didn't feel likely.
[I] again could go for Icy He was such a piece of ice in the start Ironic when he could but indeed The void was where I always went in the end.
Indeed he had no mean to be like that Still he didn't know love as I did He had no signal of it but family And I hoped with all my heart That he would feel the same I had back in time.
[O] would go for Observant He always had that over watch eyes In time I doubted if he could blink Never did when I was looking And I was always looking.
Once I told him I could be his muse if he wanted I bet he thought I was only saying stupidity Indeed I caught him looking at me when was all over And then he brought all I had, again.
[N] could go for Naive Something that back in time I thought I was But wasn't I just enjoying the good time before the danger? The danger looked like a fun time back in then.
Bathing at my own blood was not what I thought I would be doing in the end of all Still I didn't cut myself in the outside I was emerging from blood.
[A] would go for Acrimonious Caustically he destroyed me As nuclear acid In our fierce dispute Pain in my bones is what I felt but I had no mark on me.
Slowly he built me up Sweet buttercup of mine Bitter piece of cinnamon On my ice cream pie.
[R] could go for Ravenous Because there I was again Rabid for you as a piece of meat That I could not take outta my head I had it on the back and on the center.
I was hungry, but not for your body Your body was not the only thing I had on mind I had your mind on mine I wanted to eat your feelings as you ate mine But I would do it gently.
And finally, the letter [Y] would go for Youthful I suddenly stopped emanating all that old vibe And after meeting you once and twice or more Knowing every centimeter of your skin as some subject I knew best I was glowing youthfully as some missy that just born.
I was the lady on the red dress Soft skin and well done hair, glowing as the moonlight The smell of old roses emanating from me And from that moment I knew You had regrets, my sweet dictionary.
I was able to finish this without crying, congr. to me buddies. I'm setting my baby free today, I hope his words mean something for you.
A buttercup was beautifying for the afternoon dance her cheeks were flushed with water the garden sprinkler had thrown on. Her petals were fully stretched to a softness that even the butterflies slipped when they trod upon. the sun beams bounced off on the mirrored smoothness and a bumblebee looked on hovering above with second thoughts envying her golden locks. She bathed in the sunlight turning every cheek for the warm rays batting her long anthers dipped with thick orange powder. I watched her shake her hips to the folk wind tunes tip toeing into my heart slowly her yellow liquid lined eyes delving mine making me smile when I have almost forgotten how.
The brush is still in the garage on the cold, cement floor beside the empty tin of paint, its sides eternally dripping with a dried, buttercup hue.
The walls which we smothered with color are faded, now riddled with children’s earthy hand-prints after a day in the mud. A mess to us, the results of battles, safaris, and space travels to them.
I could paint over the marks, start over fresh and show off to friends. But I think I’ll let it be. No longer the bright yellow of a sun trapped in a painting, these four walls have still brightened many days.
There has been roaring laughter, divided by a few screaming matches that have made the dog whimper. This room has seen much of our lives, and life cannot be painted over so easily.
So it stays. The color will always be buttercup to me.
Chrysanthemum, Rose, Buttercup. Each morning he would guess a floret that might match Her loveliness. And every night, When he pulled her close under Periwinkle sheets He would admit defeat. "Of course how foolish I've been! No Chrysanthemum can compete With the way your velvet lips flood pink After I kiss you, my love. Not even the brightest rose can compare to the sunshine that pours from your soul every day, my darling."