#wingman
the oven stayed on too long today,
but I am still the softest thing in the room.
baked into a paper liner,
holding myself together with nothing
but a bit of sugar and the hope
that the blue inside me doesn't stain
the hands that reach for a piece.
my friend—the one who holds the map
while I trip over the sidewalk—
tells me I am made of "good things."
she says I am a blueberry muffin,
a small, rounded promise of breakfast
on a morning that feels too heavy
to wake up for.
she worries about the crumbs,
and she says it like she thinks
the world is a giant mouth
that doesn’t know how to say thank you.
she wants to keep me in the box,
keep the sugar from falling off
onto the floor.
if i’m a muffin,
then i’m the one with the most berries,
bursting open just because
i couldn’t contain the excitement
of seeing you walk through the door.
so I’ll stay soft.
I’ll keep my sugar-crust intact
until I find the person who knows
that the best part of the muffin
isn't the top, or the berry,
but the warmth it leaves
in the palms of the people
who were brave enough
to hold it while it was still hot.
don't worry about me getting hurt.
i’ve got enough sugar
to coat every sharp edge I find.
Apr 12
Apr 12, 2026 at 10:49 PM UTC
I'm stopped every time I go the way
Train must have babbled
About its love towards me,
To the guy at the crossing.
Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 12:01 AM UTC
You smile like a wolf about to ****
Your cruel, sharpened fangs barred in spite.
Your voice was gold, your white cuspids alight.
You smile at your prey; we deer stand still.
I know the smile shall end where it will.
I know it never reaches to your eyes
And I know, like one bitten once or twice,
That the wolf closes its eyes to ****
The wolf leans in too close, panic sets in
Stumbling through apologetic speech in
An effort to get somewhere else, again...
The deer springs into action, can't win
For wolves hunt in packs, the wingman swoops in
Now trapped by foes unbeatable, I'm slain.
Jun 29, 2016
Jun 29, 2016 at 11:55 AM UTC
I'm on fire and i can't get enough of you
Cuz you are surreal and one of the very few
Who can make me smile no matter what
So I will try to get you with my whole squad
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 12:29 PM UTC
4am On the drunken floor of my Wingmans apartment I place my red solo tankard down to instigate a quest.
"ROADKILL!"
That's what we call my wingman.
"Roadkill! Lets go on an adventure to king richards faire tomorrow!"
"Sure! When do we leave?"
"Don't worry, I'll wake you up."
See. When your best friend says they need you,
you don't just call them.
You drive.
Tonight,
on the anniversary of Roadkills worst tragedies,
we are getting drunk.
In the morning,
We're going to prove that life is worth living.
7:30am our alarms go off.
"Uhhhg."
"Curse you phone."
Hands slap towards the noise,
Spilling last nights wounded soldiers.
"Roadkill your shirts inside out."
"Thanks man."
Actually, while you have it off.
Black doesn't go with brown.
Pick a whole different shirt."
"It's fine."
************ There's a blue shirt right here."
Belting sailor shantees
Roadkill and I adventure three hours in
My four wheeled ground Zepplin.
"A curse to you lads,
a curse on your head,
Drinking pint after pint
until I am dead
I just keep drinking
and I don't know why,
But tonight is the night
that I drink 'til I die!"
Upon arriving at the faire we spot an ocean of goregeous maidens.
The ticket booth doth not take credit cards, however.
So we needed to speak to the gatekeeper.
"Excuse me, where's the atm?" I Ask.
"it's right over there, Handsome.
I'll need your id's first, though.
Don't worry, I don't bite
... hard."
Roadkills eyes grow the size of stormwind.
"I need to bring you everywhere man.
You make everyone love us."
we return with cash in hand
The gatekeeper pulls our ID's from her corset
looks them over before handing them back.
"How are you boys younger than me?"
"It's the beard. "
I wink.
"Keep a secret?"
Swords on hips
songs in chest.
Mead was flowing
Boots were clomping
Roadkill paused to look around
Standing like a pleased statue.
I bounced excitedlly around like a child.
ROADKILL
LOOK AT ALL OF THESE GOREGEOUS OUTFITS ON THESE BEAUTIFUL WOMAN!
"Hey!"
handsome men, too.
"Thank you"
It's like we teleported to Flurb heaven!
Look!
a garb shop!
Oh my god
A boot store!
They have a whole store
for leather larpy boots!
There is a tail shop!
I could buy and wear a fuzzy furry tail!
This is amazing!
There is a giant duck
Being pushed back and forth by two huge jacked dudes.
"I need to hug everyone!"
I am in love with everything!"
"Can i please hug you?"
"I swear to god, Nick if you touch me."
We try the knife throwing challenge.
The crossbow challenge.
The dart throwing challenge.
We **** at all of it but we have a blast.
We walk into a leather shop.
A small redheaded girl dances around us. She puts fur around our necks
Her hands trace our chests as she ties them up
You boys look like the type to rock these.
She drags us by the belts to a mirror.
Look at how handsome you both are.
"Roadkill" I whisper.
He is already lost in her eyes.
I place a hand below his chin and close his mouth.
They talk about where they're from.
Their families.
What they do for fun.
"Oh you do larp? We do dagohir it's like full contact grappley shield kicking larp"
A group of customers walk in and she leaves to tend to them.
A brunette helps take off roadkills stole.
"How much are these anyway?"
Roadkill asks the brunette.
"$600" she answers.
"I feel ashamed for even trying it on"
Says roadkill slipping off the precious treasure.
"Goodbye ladies! have fun today!"
I say, pulling roadkill by the arm.
"Oh... okay then... bye."
"They seemed sad we left.
What was that about?" Asked roadkill.
"Well do you want the blunt educated version or the ignorant positive version?"
"Ignorant of coarse."
Then they're dissapointed because they were interested in us.
"Out of curiousity, what's the blunt educated version?"
"They're upset We didn't fall for their act and buy their expensive wares."
"Whelp... there goes my self confidence. Ignorance really is bliss"
"Yes it is roadkill. Yes it is."
We Travel back home.
Again, singing sailor shantees.
"A curse to you lads,
a curse on your head,
Drinking pint after pint
until I am dead
I just keep drinking
and I don't know why,
But tonight is the night
that I drink 'til I die!"
Park the four wheeled ground zeppelin in front of the Apartment.
Clonk our boots up the stairs
Grab angry orchards out of the fridge
Slunk into the beaten brown couch
raise my bottle into the air
"To living one more day exactly the way we want too, Roadkill."
Roadkill raises his bottle.
clinks it against mine.
"To living."
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 2:09 PM UTC