"bellydancing" poems
‘Twas the night of the dickfest
In Victoria’s house
Edward Cullen was sleeping
And wearing her blouse
Christina Kelly was awesome
Making bellydancing scarves
As she and Victoria worshiped the brightest star
His name was **** no he wasn’t sandy
His last name **** his first was Andy
And he was the coolest
Crazy gay man on earth
He’s just been that cool
Since the day of his birth
Which is why the two girls
Worshiped this man
And why their dickfiesta was in fact planned
Oct 2, 2010
Oct 2, 2010 at 3:36 PM UTC
"Mommy I want to be just like you"
You snorted and looked up from the sewing machine:
Do you want to be poor?
But Mummy I never knew poverty
I never compared my clothes to other kids' clothes
Because you had perfected
The art of making them yourself
And perhaps you could not afford a babysitter
So we went bellydancing together
I remember I was 7
We got to play basketball and football
Practice swimming and Taekwondo
And maybe there were times when things weren't so easy
But you always gave all you had
Carried the world on your sholders
With your head held high
You let me walk freely against all your instincts
Because it was the right thing to do
Pulled me back right on time
And trusted again, like nothing had gone wrong
Fought for my honor like a fierce lioness
Forgave me my mistakes
And shielded me from the worst
Never gave up on our broken relationship
So when I say:
"Mommy I want to be just like you"
I mean I want to Love Unconditionally just like you
And maybe all parents do blame themselves
For everything possible and indeed, impossible
But I don't blame you and I cannot thank you enough
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 4:44 PM UTC