Your my best *****, your always there for me were partners in crime you eat the frosting I eat the cake together were a cupcake your my best *****
I love u

**i love u forever

your kisses were like sprinkles on a just-baked cupcake
which made the eggs your home
the sugar your family
the flour the nighttime
the butter your mood
the pink icing your touch
and our conversations the purple food coloring

or so i presume

“I love you cupcake,
sugar cookie,
double chocolate coffee crumble toffee almond cake.”

                                                         ­                             “I forgot my insulin
                                                         ­                               but that’s ok,

                                                            ­                           just please give me more,
                                                           ­                            we’ll figure it out later.”

“You’re my sweet living nightmare,
my small wondrous death,
my fanciful figure of false hope.”

                                          Come melt on my tongue.
                                          Send me into convulsions.


                                                  ­ Leave me here

                Choking on the chalky aftertaste of candy heart sentiments,
                Clumsy banalities dribbling out the corners of my mouth.

                                                      Mur­muring,

       “Forget the ******* insulin. Give me more. We’ll figure it out later.”

When my daughter is sad
she makes  cupcakes
the series of taste tests add up to twelve
and she is diligent.
I don't mind,
all the necessary food groups
are there for her
and the crumbs will do fine for me.

My problem is I flirt too much
Every chick that walks into view
I'm bound to flirt with eventually
I'm not the best looking
Nor am I the sweetest
I'm the chocolate covered cupcake
You pass by everyday
On your way to and from work
Calling your name
With my delicious temptation
I taste sweet but another bite
BLAMM 32lbs you just gained
I'm good for all the wrong reasons
I'm the **** in disguise
So thank you for reminding me
Anything else you want to get off your chest?
You have my number
You know where I live
My work isn't far from you
So come on
Tell me how you really feel
I couldn't care less
It's just Charlie Browns mom
I'm hearing from you
I tuned you out the moment
We had our first fight

what I really wanted had little to do with
cupcakes

and everything to do with the way
your eyes followed my
lips & tongue
as I pulled the first taste of icing

into a mouth that has been
ready to tell you "yes"
since before you formed
the question.

Part of me will never forgive myself
for not following through on the promise I made to you

But another part
knows that you wanted me too
Forced me to

Part of my brain was already on the way to the store
to get cupcake making supplies

when the other part of me,
remembered that you don’t have a sweet tooth

Unless the cupcake was laced with misery,
there was no way you would sink your teeth into it

I wonder why you had wanted confetti cake
when all you know is grey

I wonder if you were hoping that I could bake some color
back into your throat

so that your own voice
mattered to you again

I convince myself that things are better this way
but it is like wishing on a cake the day after your birthday

Forced and futile
though appreciating the sentiments.

I would have given you the universe baked deep
inside of the cupcakes that were my proof that I could be worthy

I remember when you called me Cupcake
And said that everything would be okay
Then the very next day
You broke my heart
With scars on your wrists
And ice in your eyes
A little piece of my heart turned to dust
And there's still a gap there
Tugging at every relationship
I attempt to unfold

i know we haven’t talked
i know it’s been a while
i know that it’s kinda my fault
but i still miss you
i miss your fast talking and crazy stories
i miss your dyed hair and red arms
i really, really miss you
i miss our hangouts before class
i miss our planned birthday parties
i miss our ranting about how mean our friends were
i really, really, really miss you
i miss your old car with the cupcake sticker
i miss your loft bed and starbursts from math class
but most of all
i miss us

- a.g.

"I really wish I could love you."
"Don't cry. I'll be okay."

Her cold hands blanketed my cheeks, as warm tears repelled from finger to finger.

I looked at her, as her eyes changed from blue to green to blue again. "I don't want you to die, Reno."

"Dying can't **** me, Josh. I thought you knew better." Her eyes were green again, as her iris exploded into a wave of grey. She blinked and they were blue again, changing the room to an eggshell white. We sat on a naked mattress, in the middle of an empty room, my face resting on her soft shoulder. Only orange, dancing pill bottles kept us company. They'd tip their caps, like a hat, at the end of each song.

We swam in a teal sea, inside of four brick walls. Our mouths didn't move, but our voices travelled through air bubbles.

Doing an underwater backflip, the bubbles broke, "When did you first fall in love?"

Kicking off the floor, towards her, "I was twenty."

"How'd you know?"

"She gave me a cupcake and was trying to light the candle, but couldn't. She kept trying and trying. At that moment, I knew I loved her."

She swam towards me, her legs like ribbons waving at the surface.

"His name was Lee," she cooed as she started to drown, "I was seventeen and he open hand slapped me. I thought that was love. Then, eventually, he started to close his hand and then I knew that it wasn't. It didn't stop me from loving him with everything I had, though."

I reached for her as her legs were being pulled up to the surface. She opened her mouth, "You'll be okay. I promise."

My pillow was soaked by sweat as I sat up and rubbed my eyes. The other side of the bed was empty.  I turned my head to see the bathroom light peeking behind an indecisive door. Getting up, I walked around the foot of the bed and over the blanket dying on the floor. As I grew closer to the bathroom, the sound of retching clawed at my eardrums.

My hand pushed the door until the bronze **** kissed the wall. An alabaster body was on the floor. Reno's face appeared as she wiped her mouth. She flushed the toilet. I walked towards her, kneeled beside her, and hugged her as the sound of suction and spinning water drowned the air.

I whispered in her ear. She picked up head, out of my arms, and smiled, blue eyes and all.

Here I am;
stuffing my face in a Brookeshires parking lot like some ravenous animal, with a cupcake I bought myself.
Writing a half assed poem to pass the time while I wait for a response.
But, we've all been there.. Right?

Dear Mr. Heaney
I wish I'd read your poetry
years ago when I was still impressionable and coy and all that jazz.
Now it resounds in my skull, leaving a tingle in my right hand.
My pen is somewhat snug, but a revolver, no.
Ink and shovels aren't far from each other,
so your point is well-taken. In fact, they're co-workers –
Ink's proved itself just as deadly. It slowly ushers men into the earth,
their soil-seat, while the shovel stages the unending play;
the eternal lattice.
The Nobel hung above your head,
the vast array of pins, medals, papers with your name in billowing scarlet.
What a treat. Like the last cupcake in the back of
the refrigerator that had too much chocolate icing and was only
semi-covered in multi-colored snowflakes. I'd loved to have
personally presented it to you. There'd be my own plaque,
billowing scarlet and all. It'd say, "Mr. Heaney,
, you must own a *****." I hope you'd laugh, and not be offended,
thinking me a distasteful and insensitive lout. It may not be right,
but I can't help but steal the volumes surrounding yours out of
every **** library so
"Seamus Heaney"
may catch the eye of the common passerby
more easily. I think I even went to work on
enhancing a spine with a red sharpie once.
Red hits the eye hard.
That was in the central library downtown.
Don't tell anyone.
Beyond a laugh, what I hope for most is that you get this letter.
Just look at it.
Wonder why someone so far removed in age and culture and place
would ever think of you holding an over-frosted desert as glorious.

To My Moirail,
You listened when others were self centered, distance couldn't stop us from watching movies, you made me smile with your quotes and You even became a brony(sorta) when I did.

I was there when you would rant about those jerks, when you obsessed over Jack White, and We talked about your dad.

I promise to never stop being there for you, Cross my Heart and Hope to Fly Stuck a Cupcake in my Eye! I will be forever your friend, as long as you say the same to me. : 3

My Moirail, For whom I have the Palest of Feelings, I would give you my last apple, I would do anything for you cause you'd do the same for me.

a red velvet cupcake wrapper casts shadows on the desk while
abandoned crumbs still cling to a dainty mouth.

a rose dress worn by rosy cheeks and some pink thighs,
pink thighs that stay petite to match that flawless, porcelain stomach.
a stomach he wants to grab, and pull, and hold.
fleshy lips and rough tongues.
pleasure on the lips, on the hips, on the tips
of the fingers
that intermingle, and intertwine
that trace the perfect buds of a budding girl.

stark white snow ******* the life out of the frozen ground.
stark white sheets ******* the life out of men.
gloves that come in neat little packages signifying
love?
lust.
trust?
a gift given that can never be returned.
she can never return.
yet the bumping and thrusting and heaving continue.
sweet smelling sweat and sultry sighs.
roses are not innocent.
they conceal thorns, they draw blood.

blood the color of the last remains of a cupcake,
frosted with secrets and assumptions.
a pleasure on the lips, but
never on the hips.

There once was a cupcake
          who knew where an elf lived
               but then
      the captain took her away.

                        now
          the elf lives isolated
in a gigantic, silent, undisturbed forest
                     hidden
                      alone.

      the cupcake, epitome of popularity
always tugged off to be the delight of the party
                     a role model.

          the captain, wretched sailor
      never stays in one place for long
                always looking for
                    new horizons
          leaving behind crewmates.

                        the elf
                 succumbed to
                      being a
                       statue.

Cup cakes are fun
Cup cakes are perfect..
Cute ones, lovely ones..
A mouth watering desserts a lovely decorations..
A bite of a tempting looking cupcake.
Fill your life with joy
Just gazing at one bring a smile on your face...

If i were to make a cupcake today
What flavor would it be?
Would it be chocolate, would it be vanilla?
Would it be strawberry, blueberry or a mixture of both?
Red velvet they say
lets give it a try..

My lovely cupcake
makes me forget the calorie
where are you now?
where has it gone now?
i wish it were here
at the wave of my wand

Give me your inspiration.
Come on, you have enough already.
This isn’t fair, I protest;
how is it that you can create
a dozen pretty iced-cupcake poems
a day and I can’t?

Honestly –
sharing is caring.
I don’t want it all,
just a little bit.
A tenth will suffice.
It won’t take much from you,
I swear! you’ll still be writing
ten-point-eight cupcakes
a day.
Now would that be so bad?

No? Well, then.
Be like that.
It’s not like
I need inspiration …

Mercury , Mars  or Neptune
Or were u driven to the moon ?
Oh dear , dear u are dearly missed
Alas u have no idea that I exist .
A single reality seems to be bitter than a thousand nightmares
All I can do is despair
Bae you know u were loved : truly , madly , deeply and broadly .
Those endless nights of endless pleasure
All seem  to have come to an end
Tho U were right : it was just not ur thing
But we tried and cried and struggled to cling
For ur happiness we had to let go .
If  princes rode  white horses or black horses  you rode a unicorn
A unicorn who took u in a different direction .
A direction meant to ice your cupcake
But dear u will still be loved , maybe not broadly but - truly , deeply and madly .

There's no reasonable explanation
To how this all went down
When the world woke up one morning
All made up as clowns

Not a single person in the world
Did this phenomenon not claim
With big red buttons on their chests
Spelling out new funny names

There was Patches and Petunia
Floppy and Cupcake
Winky and Bumper the Clown
Were just a few that they displayed

Everyone went about their business
Only now they all carpooled
You could see clowns piling out of cars everywhere
From businesses to stores to schools

Crime it did die down
Because all the guns that people have
Instead of shooting bullets
Shoot out brightly colored Big Bang Flags

Of course the circus lost its glamour
With an audience made up of clowns
It's hard to tell who's there enjoying
And who's entertaining all the crowds

People stopped taking each other seriously
Over anything they had to say
Pointing at each other and laughing
As they go about their day

Who knew a thing like this would happen
When the world went to bed last night
That the very next morning
They'd wake up clowns for life

Oh, I almost forgot the Politicians
Were the only ones to stay the same
It's already a simple known fact
*When your a clown you don't need to change

F-A-T;
the word stands out
bold in my brain.
Down another
cupcake, another cup
of Coke,
not thinking of the
sugary morsels that run
past my lips until another
pound is added on the
scale.
I'm triple digits;
too big, too
flabby, not small
enough for a
size two dress.
I put a finger down my
throat, but nothing comes
out into the
foamy toilet water below me.
I count each calorie and
gram of saturated fat,
but I always fail,
always binge until I
want to die.
Swim another
lap, run
another mile,
grind bone against
bone with every
strain of my muscle.
They say that I am
healthy,
but healthy is never
thin.

Up all night in your underwear
Up all night with Saturday hair
Up all night with the birds sittin there
With the clock tickin there
Why do you care
Sleep all day I don't wanna see
**** the sun baby
**** your dumb party
Momma come a knockin
Just to come hug me
I'm goin crazy
I can feel the heat
Fireball whiskey
And your tongue on me
That's my medicine
Yum yum yummy

I tried to wrap my fingers around the world once
  But like trying to have a finger in every cup of cupcake pan:
I couldn’t
I ended up with handfuls of soils and clouds swirling through my fingertips

So I decided to get a different goal
I would traced every star with my fingertips
Lying on my back in a field I saw them all
Making dot to dot pictures in the constellations spilled before me
Each star I traced had two more coming after it and the numbers never ended

Did you know some of the stars we see aren’t even still lit?
They burned out yet still their light travels too us from light years away
A lake I heard about in Montana has crystal clear waters
Though you can see the water’s floor it is still incredibly deep
The shallow look of seeing every pebble is simply an illusion
I wish the sky were like that
The stars could look closer, feel warmer, despite their distance

Maybe I only wish that because the thought of space makes me uncomfortable
I like to think that this is up
And that is down
but the world’s not flat
It’s quite sadly round

My night is day in another place,
on this earth
What time is it on mars, on pluto, on planets we don’t know about?
How small are we really in the grand spectrum of it all?

Because I assure you if you dropped a grain of sand into a bag of rice you could find it
If you tried and tried and tried
And looked at every grain of rice
We are here, we can be found in it all
But we have hid ourselves in blankets of space
And wrapped ourselves in other stars to make us hard to find

To the ******* a diet, temptation is a cupcake.
To the recovering alcoholic, temptation is a cold one.
To the gay girl trying not to be gay, temptation comes in the form of a red head with freckles.
To the red head with freckles, temptation is the girl with the Jesus tattoo and piercings.


I am no cupcake. I am the devil personified. Perhaps a demon in her eyes.
I am her temptation and its a nasty place to be.

I think I'd just rather be a cupcake.

I keep getting this urge
To tell strangers
How you used to bring a can of Chef Boyardee
To school for lunch everyday.

Or how I used to collect
Plastic Hello Kitty cupcake rings
And give them to you
Just to see you smile.

I would laugh as you ate it cold,
plastic fork suspended
straight from the can.

I would smile with you,
and hope you didn't realize
I ate all those cupcakes
by myself.

I want to share you with the world
Take your memory with me in my pockets
Spill it out with my tongue

I want to share you with the world,
Introduce you to people you will never meet
Tell people about you
Because they will never get the chance
To get to know you like I did
Like we all did.

But when you took your life,
You did the world a disservice
You took away the world's chance to find you
So you could find yourself

You took away your opportunities
To change
To get better
To grow
To love
And be loved
How we loved
You.

Your smile
Your eyes
Your soul
All so bright
Like stars in sky

Stars that you snuffed out
Stars that we can't gaze at anymore.
Your constellation is lost
Just a fairytale now
But a favorite amongst us all

My birthday comes in a little over 2 weeks and I think when people talk about birthdays, they are secretly talking about status in blocked hours.

Somewhere in that 24 hour block, a person was born, and that person was me. .....well Yay I guess.

I don't like my birthday. And the reasons for that, are more complicated than you think.

When I was 13, I was really into cupcake birthday cakes. I asked for one, every year, for a long time.

When I turned 15 and 16, my best friend baked me cupcakes and brought them to school for me, and I shared them with my peers. You see, I considered her my best friend, and I guess that's not enough to be the best friend.

It's like unrequited love if you put poisonous platonic friendship in my blood first.

When I turned 17, she did baked me my last set of cupcakes, but I no longer had a best friend. So I spent my birthday mentally by myself while my family sang otherwise.

And right now, I hate cupcakes, and superhero films because they remind me of her. But saying that is the weakest thing to do, since everything, reminds me of her.

I will never admit I loved her, the same way she will shamelessly say she never loved me. I can't hate her, but I can't see her without hating myself.

You know age, goes up, the same way sadness, goes down. Pulling you into another 24 hour block just so you can say.

"Hey. I made it another day."

I will admit that every day without her is another day without cupcakes, and another day without sugar is another day without happiness. And people may have asked me "How can you flip-flop between preferences like you're not the biggest homosexual in the closet." So when I tell people I'm straight, they tell me I'm not allowed to change my mind.

I loved her, but she left me and took all of my friends with her. And I thought that real friends wouldn't abandon me, but there is always time to be wrong. By the time my birthday comes, I'll be crying, and she doesn't even remember what day my birthday is on.

By the time I read this out loud, I will have been through this birthday, like a person walks through fire. Turning 16 is less about age, then it is about school, and turning 18, is less about the number, and more about becoming an adult. And no amount of adult can neutralize pain.

I have accepted the fact that no man will ever really want to marry me. And no Christian, will ever truly want to love me.
And if I am wrong, I will have to repeat this lost love forever dragging it out in my life.

And if I have kids one day, do you really think...

That I'm going to tell everyone if it's a boy or a girl...

By making blue or pink...

...cupcakes?

"Too much vanilla

Can make the cupcake bitter

Do not put a lot."