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.

Blue eyes
And strawberry skies
What else is there
To think of?

Fuzzy peach dreams
And candy store robberies
I run to you
But I am unable to reach

Through broken features
And torn art
Our hearts are ripped apart

I try to forget
But still
All I can think of
Are those blue eyes
And strawberry skies