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yeah, the strawberries probably weren’t fresh enough for this.
and yeah, the crust was a little tougher than i meant it to be because i just. kept. kneading it.
can you blame me? i needed it to be uniform. smooth.
and yeah, maybe i used too much flour in the dough. Maybe it was a little too dry and crackly for your taste and maybe mine too.
but you ate it, right?
you ate it even though it was sour and dry and tough.
you ate it even though you would have done it differently.
you ate it even though i know you don’t even like strawberries.
or pie.
lila Dec 2019
I am tired of chasing straw haired boys,
Who smell like earth and stability and everything that should be good for me.

I hurl myself like a meteor at them,
crash headfirst and they insist I am more fire rocket than girl.

He picks a girl who looks like him,
And I insist it is not because I am not straw haired.

But it eats at me, persimmons drip just like strawberries.
Why did you pick me if you could never even love me?
Ksh Nov 2019
I once bought a box of fresh strawberries
from the market
I've hated strawberries all my life,
but not because of how they tasted,
how they smelled,
or how they looked.
To be honest, I've never really eaten
a strawberry before;
but I just knew I'd hate it.
People think that it was just because
I was a picky eater;
that I wasn't up for trying new things.
I hated strawberries because
people thought all girls were supposed
to like them -- their taste, their scent.
All sweet and innocent and pure and nice.
I hated how they expected me to be
confined in a pink, dainty box,
expected me to like or smell like
fresh fruits and honey,
all sugary and giggly.
So I bought a box of fresh strawberries,
put one in my mouth,
and the rest in the bin.
I still hate strawberries,
but for more reasons now.
Anastasia Jul 2019
Dancing in the headlights
Fireflies like shadows of stars
Smiles taste like strawberries
Hands hold like they'll never let go
It's about to rain
The skies hot tears
But we don't care
We talk by the river
Our feet dipped in
The moon's reflection shattered
As you push me in
Hold each other in dark
Our favorite song
Hand in hand
All night long
Night poetry. 9:09 p.m.
no truth login Jun 2019
life choices cast in iron skillets,
presented choices that possess no flexibility

twice, she asks me today

morning fruitage, on offer,
peaches ripe to rip real sweet perfection
from your eyes to the remembering salivating mouth,
or
sweet but just **** enough
strawberries that will wince your tongue buds
intolerant of either, but perfect together

acorn squash,
over roasted to be the violin section
to your barbecued chicken orchestra serenading,
but which shall be the sweetener,
honey or maple syrup,
similar but different

the kitchen floor explosive shakes,
pans to the floor fall, eyelet unhooked all,
spices from cabinets burst forth,
kitchen mittens slapping each other
in utter disbelief

when I reply,
let us choose both!

for there is no bifurcation,
no line of demarcation
on our taste buds
this a truthful -
our lives a perpetual blending,
both will login lead to a
the right and proper ending
When I see punnets,
I hope there are strawberries
in heaven.
Remembering my deceased Grandmother, who loved strawberries.
Salmabanu Hatim Jun 2018
What a surprise!
A single bud on a rose tree,
Blushing to open,
As glistening dew bathe it.
I moved down the orchard,
Ah! The Rose Family (Rosaceae),
Apples (malus),
Raspberries (rubus),
Strawberries (fragaria).
Having a morning chat,
In awe to see the blooming of their cousin,the rose,
Their leaves trembling with joy.
Roses are red my love,
So are their cousins Prunus,
Plums and cherries,
Red as fresh blood,
Nodding in the gleaming sun.
What a get-together!
Ako May 2018
I keep slicing reality
With the Knife of Reason,
Yet brushing winds
Carry scents of hope.

Neuron connections of
Misconceptions -
Is that causation
Or empty words?

I keep dicing my days
Climbing the ego
Of a shoreless mind
You keep coming my way
Wearing nothing but bands
Around your thighs -
Limelight moments.
Ticking clocks.
Shivers
Down my spine.
Written Nov. 10, 2016
Druzzayne Rika May 2018
Cherries and poppies
raspberries and strawberries
and fallen red leaves,
a burning memory.
Brianna May 2018
It was like strawberries and champagne.
It was like the taste of sugar when my lips pressed against yours.
It was like the rush of *******.

It was the morning air filled with regret and sorrow.
It was the way you touched me that made me heart race.
It was the look you gave me when you said you wouldn't be back tomorrow.

I like the games, they keep me on my toes.
but i hate the way my heart feels when we are done.
I like the games but they fill me with woes.

It was like strawberries and smoke.
It was the way you asked me my name when we first met.
It was the way i wished you'd just choke.

emotions are high.
I am high.
My life... is low.
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