It was march At the farmers market Still kinda cold outside There were people selling their odds and ends And vendors selling fruit inside At the back of the lot Set an old taco truck That sold tacos for a dollar a pop I had 3 and a glass bottle coke And wondered if I should buy strawberries or not
it was the night we got high off of our youth we soared through the sweet strawberry sunset we didn’t talk we didn’t have to it was just me and you on a wednesday night forgetting the world and at last, being at ease.
Lipstick butterflies float on the mirror’s heavy condensation She is a vermillion explosion Heavy colored lids and Winged eyeliner as if She too Could fly This is the glitz and glamour of how to disappear
Take a sip Strawberry syrup Sweet and soft But never enough Strawberry sweetness Smooth in your mouth Tangy but not sour Covering the dollhouse Strawberry syrup Dripping from your lips Red On your fingertips Staining the lace On your pretty white dress Strawberry syrup Making a mess Can’t see through the syrupy haze Covering my eyes in a strawberry glaze
I see you but you don’t see me I see you when you walk into your favorite café Your head hung low and your nose in a book What are you reading? Is it a love story? A thriller? I desperately want to know.. To know you I see you but you don’t see me I see you as you use your wavy strawberry locks To cover your rosy face hoping no one Will take a second look at you But I do because I know you But you don’t know me I see you nibbling on your fingernails, Preparing yourself to order the same coffee You always drink because you’re too scared to try anything else Let me help you, I want to help you Let me say the words that always grab your tongue And seize it before you can speak But you finally muster the words in a taut manner Take your mocha latte to go and exit the cafe swiftly And I see an opportunity fall out of my hands Until the next time you come in again You’re intriguing, a world to explore I saw you but you didn’t see me What will it take to get your attention?
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.