#cali
Some types of blood arrest this mouth.
Yes, some types of lips breathe fire and shout.
Some types of women shuck men of their gain, then some women run hurriedly back to their beaches again.
Some people catch anons between their legs. Others swallow vespers BeSpoke by the lust that they crave. Then envelop Gonzo love on the tip of their quill, if only boiling themselves for five minutes to ensure themselves potable.
I live for the taste of rust. I sit in the second-to-last seat on the back-left side of the bus. And I greet her legs with my aching skin, touch my fingertips to my lips to prove that I’m alive to myself.
If her scent was obeyed by royalty. I’m traversing the world if only once more as I’m praying that she’ll see me. I’m praying for our faces to believe in we. And her taste is the bang that is big from the beginning of time, one twist of the fresh zest of a lime, while the years are turned back into the furnace of time. I’m craving faces and loves I once saw. I need to feel the skin tailored for the female gods. I’m certainly loud and catering forth, I turn up the pre, and force the gain and amp up. If only to be noted again, in a bed with my goddess together we’d spend, every moment together in eternity. Immortality conceived of the beasts we achieve. Trampled by the light and tortured by the sound of ourselves. Please won’t you help me to not be forgotten myself? I’m pursing my lips and shaking my hands, I’m jumping off rooftops and eating mouthfuls of sand. Is our hero here or has she she run? Help me find Britni West, my one true love. She’s in California last I had a taste. It’s only everyone else that I lay chaste. With her I’m on top of the world, I’d quaff her spit and champion her skin. There is nothing nor no one that could come between. She’s the only one that is for me, and I’m the only he she’s told me.
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 6:53 AM UTC
I want to see the west coast
feel ***** SanFran sidewalks on my feet
and redwood forest air inside me
I want to glide the coastline
and drink expensive smoothies
fall a few times surfing
and laugh until I'm hurting
I want to see the west coast
and forget about my worries
I know it sounds redundant
but California calls me
I want to see the redwoods
and look up and feel small
I want to know the desert
and meet a blonde haired boy
I crave the west coast breeze
the sand between my toes
there is something out there I am missing
what it is yet, I do not know
Feb 15, 2017
Feb 15, 2017 at 12:04 AM UTC
Florescent lights pierce
my eyelids at five o'clock.
I open them and I squint.
I have to remember to
turn my head when I wake up.
Shuttle leaves at 6 o'clock.
I do not have time to wake.
I lumber to my locker.
Carefully turning the dial.
Careful no one sees the code.
I dress myself lazily.
The coffee here is weak.
If not, then it is day old.
Beggers can't be choosers.
I ready my beach cruiser.
Waiting in line while my breath
forms a bellow of hot
human vapor. They pull up.
I place my bike on the rack.
I get onto the shuttle.
Fifteen minutes later I
arrive at my shuttle stop.
A five mile ride to work
while the sun bleeds over the
horizon and shines on me.
There was a peace I felt as
I vibed to music on my
way to work. I felt free then.
Then, arriving at work, I
worked until the ride back there.
As the sun set I waited.
Shuttle pulls up and I place
my bike on the rack. Back to
the place I wake up squinting.
I can't wait for my bike ride....
Sep 14, 2020
Sep 14, 2020 at 5:26 PM UTC
You ruined everything.
West coast beach,
East coast lights,
Road trips,
Late nights,
Panic attacks,
crushes.
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 11:28 AM UTC
I don’t want to be in love.
Love is like the body’s betrayal to the mind.
There is a jagged rock that lies in the bottom of my stomach,
My veins have turned to barbed wire, you see,
If I’m not careful, this stupid love could tear me open at any moment.
I’m teaching the clouds how to cry for me,
So just know whenever it rains all the way in California,
It’s not the work of God.
It’s the work of me trying to get over the distance of 3,000 miles.
Did you really have to be the nicest kind of *******
Everyone asks me where my smile is at,
But how do I tell them that I left in a flip phone and a couple of phone calls?
It only takes a “hey”for you to take away my stressors.
I’ve got blood stains in my skin from talking to you,
But I don’t mind if the barbed wire cuts a couple of times
If I have to hurt just one more day for you then so be it.
If I have to wait just one more day for you then why not?
No.
This is not easy.
I don’t want to be in love and not be able to touch it,
Because there’s always going to be someone better.
Better than me, better than you.
Closer than me, closer than you.
Yet I already promised myself I wouldn’t go for better,
I’d go for first.
And darling. You got here first so here you go.
You can have my heart because I don’t want it if it means settling for something easy.
Now how’s that for dysfunctional?
Nov 8, 2018
Nov 8, 2018 at 9:42 PM UTC