#dang
I thought I could handle it
I really thought I could
But then you walked in
And all I could think was,
“Oh shoot. I’m *******
Jan 10, 2020
Jan 10, 2020 at 9:21 PM UTC
an average of 2,830 cubic meters
per second of rich silt
forms an alluvial plain
spreads outward in a fan shape
from sedimentary deposit whereby
ancient Egyptian civilizations got built
adorning arid topography invaluable
like aorta pumping blood at the nape
of the neck, yet analogous context
engendered engineering feats without guilt
whereby artisans, craftsmen,
early geographers illustrated in frieze and drape
frozen timeless statuary exhibiting
phenomenal abilities to the hilt
associated from mainspring within
fertile crescent swollen like a plump grape
which longest river often overflows
banks whereby coveted materiel gets spilt
feeding the rift valley and allowing,
enabling and providing peoples to dominate
flooding the history of mankind
with accomplishments that marvel even today
epitomized by innovations -
alphabets, wheelwrights, pyramids, etc lives did create
baffling historians how each mortise and tenon
snug as a bug in a rug mortise and tenon block
construed edifices persons did intricately lay
perfect with near geometric exactitude
ranks as wonder of webbed wide world great
faint hints of daily trials and tribulations
recorded for posterity in clay
or shards of broken pottery pieced together
coupling revelations a mosaic plate
which functional artifacts
provided dietary staples
to pagan spirits populace did pray.
Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 1:06 AM UTC
He has cerulean eyes that I despise
And Martin Senour Paints' white ibis hair.
He is a skyscrappppeerrrr.
But God ****** I like looking up at that body over there.
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 7:20 PM UTC
54.
That may seem like nothing to you.
But...
Ah..
That was my math quiz score....
Shi-- Wait don't wanna curse.
Because I'm nice.
Though not in front of math.
AH! I HATE YOU MATH!!!!
Haha.
Feb 22, 2017
Feb 22, 2017 at 7:19 PM UTC
I am sorry I tried calling you that one time
when I was drunk off lonely and whiskey and Four Loko.
It’s just that your hands were so good at keeping
me together. My body still sometimes collapses into the shape
of your mouth. I am such a soft, malleable thing, and it has taken me
too long to realize that you are also this. More important,
that you are more than my memories. That you exist free
and independent of my life. That my idea of you that crosses
my empty highway mind is not you. And with this, I am so sorry
for all the nights I tried to split your heart open just so
I had a place to rest. I did not understand how you were no
longer me anymore, how the you I had in me was a postcard
and not the city. Forgive the fury, the angry prayers tossed towards
the dark of my 3AM ceiling that were meant for your neck.
You were asleep that night where we started to break, and my skin
felt taut and sunburned, so red and wanting to scream, but Cassidy
told me that it makes sense why this was so frustrating. The rusting
of four years should make me mad. It meant I cared. And I still do.
And I still get the urge to hollow my arms so you can fit better, you
this new person who has grown and loved and spilled over into
a newer night. I forget so often that I can’t carry you like I once did,
and that you don’t know how to hold me anymore.
Even now, I’m still apologizing.
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 10:31 PM UTC
lettuce,
tomatoes,
onions,
mayonnaise,
mustard,
but no bread
dang it
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 9:24 PM UTC