"leprosy" poems
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Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
Poppy fields grow
seeds make *****
****** and morphine dreams
and the leaves
can cure leprosy
and answer all your needs.
Poppy leaves boiled taste like spinach,
and could be used in a
fragrant dish, fit for a king.
They made their graves and layed in them too,
in the poppy fields.
They didn't cook. They didn't shoot up.
They didn't have leprosy. They just died
amongst the flowers
and bullets
and shrapnel
and smoke.
They were sent to die. They were our kings.
Feb 8, 2011
Feb 8, 2011 at 4:12 PM UTC
Gabriel whispered in mine ear
His archangelic poesie.
How can I write? I only hear
The sobbing murmur of the sea.
Raphael breathed and bade me pass
His rapt evangel to mankind;
I cannot even match, alas!
The ululation of the wind.
The gross grey gods like gargoyles spit
On every poet's
holy head;
No mustard-seed of truth or wit
In those curst furrows, quick or dead!
A tithe of what I know would cleanse
The leprosy of earth; and I -
My limits are like other men's.
I must live dumb, and dumb must die!
5.3k
By day she wooes me, soft, exceeding fair:
But all night as the moon so changeth she;
Loathsome and foul with hideous leprosy,
And subtle serpents gliding in her hair.
By day she wooes me to the outer air,
Ripe fruits, sweet flowers, and full satiety:
But through the night, a beast she grins at me,
A very monster void of love and prayer.
By day she stands a lie: by night she stands,
In all the naked horror of the truth,
With pushing horns and clawed and clutching hands.
Is this a friend indeed; that I should sell
My soul to her, give her my life and youth,
Till my feet, cloven too, take hold on hell?
5.3k
tues.
exhausted piano teeth mozart pere
gnashing slashing sound barrier
stretching zoology beyond the bird
cannibals in the a-z azimuth
weds.
mirage of red awnings all-night resort
cannibals in the azimuth stairwell décor
thurs.
cold as leprosy embraced
yet somehow curled
fri.
frail departure voice to ****
height hair duck drake
cold as geology young rocks flame
(hidden within the blink of eye)
4.9k
My sympathy depleted
My friendships deleted
I have been defeated
By truths that hit so hard
I was decleated
By intense hatred deep-seeded
My history was repeated
I guess a three-armed mutant
Has no need for a right hand man
Until his leprosy riddled hands rot off
When he needs them the most
But his ***** limbs had been pretty useless for a while
Since he had lost feeling in them
He had to do a biopsy on his life
After the inaccurate results of the smear test
He took antibiotics to rid himself of the bacteria
But that didn't heal the nerve damage
He yearned for the rhetoric to be less inflammatory
So he took steroids
Transforming the ***** into an ogre
With no semblance of humanity
...Except for the people he devours
Their patience is delicious
He eats that first
Their pity is a delicacy
A rare treat
Their disgust tastes sour
But it's a feast
His cannibalism may seem callous
But the non-mutant lepers take Thalidomide
And get pregnant
Their kids come out defected
With an intense, deep-seeded hatred for three-armed mutants
And lepers and ogres look exactly the same
To those of another species
Jun 29, 2017
Jun 29, 2017 at 5:51 PM UTC
On its back,
The cockroach,
In a jacket of red wings,
Slender legs,
And bulging abdomen,
Like the tummy of African statesman,
Its legs wallowing in despair,
In the air,
Stamping the spread eagled,
Hind and forelimbs,
Of the poor anthropod,
Kicking and waving,
A cry for the succor,
To be freed from ebola,
Or breaking the *** tether,
Or un-doing strong bonds of poverty,
Three districts under leprosy,
In the domain of the bull’s eye,
Where lesbians and gays swallow raw fate,
Its salient manifestation,
Then the cockroach kicks silently,
Anticipating for salvage,
But when the domain owner comes,
He steps with full weight,
His foot dressed in military boots,
From the previous legacy of Che Gue Vara,
On the belly of the kakerlag at Berlin Wall,
Bursting its stomach but hopscotch,
Spilling the white stuff out,
Of poverty and mental dilemma,
Amid hopelessness in future and history,
As terrorism mires tomorrow,
When China reigns today,
At mercy of contemporary panjandrums,
Moving from white to black
And from black to face book,
Killing those who fall in commercial love,
As if money is the ***** for nuptial night,
But only to go forth ignobled,
Without making momentous affinity,
In the realm of ill fated cockroach back-dom,
Sending Mafousian Egypt to Swedish table,
Without scorn and regard for true African blood,
Where will I apologize?
If the ****** bug
Enters my head and heart,
To blind my logical eyes,
Only to open wide
The senses that see and feel
Religion and race; O! Al Qaeda!
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 6:17 AM UTC
Nationality shipping ******
Strategy damage fragments
***** puke ***** fraction
Biological ***** disobedience
Fannie pictorial laundries
****** manhood caliphate
Woodworks Biebers frites
****** vandal’s fakes
Utmost openly grim
******* ************
Piled dish cell
Discuss **** ******
Jihad imbeciles reincarnation
Fear fears America
Watching emptiness falling
Dinner screaming nonsense
Deadly velvet laughs
Banality quack leprosy
Games flood biting
Tv nation ******
Swallowed road poets
Animal replied stories
Creature’s terminal idea
Explodes gloom stare
Selling young crack
Game scratch *******
Confuse spill scream
Genitals China responsibility
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC
Depression
Is when
You want to do something
But lack the motivation
And feel like you
Can do
Nothing.
Depression
Is when
You feel an overwhelming sadness
That does not go
Does not ask
But simply stays
As it slowly puts out
The fire
In your heart.
Depression
Is when
You feel hunger
And yet you do not eat
Because to cook
Is far
Too much effort
And who are you
To take that food?
Depression
Is when
You feel pain
To a massive scale
But none of it
Truly goes away.
You have good days
And bad days
Joyous moments
And horrific ones.
But depression
Is when
Even your good moments
Are tainted
By the knowledge
That you will soon
Slip back
Into the gaping abyss
Of sadness and despair
That is
Your psyche.
There is no cure,
Not a universal one,
At least.
If your depression
Is caused by
Loneliness
Or heartbreak,
Than perhaps
A partner
Could end it.
If your depression
Is caused
By asinine family members,
Then maybe
If they were just nice
Instead of mean
They
Could end it,
But the problem
With depression
Is that
No one knows
That you have it
Unless you tell them.
And if you do,
They will either
Back away
As if from leprosy
Or some contagious disease
Or they will
Know nothing of it
And abandon you
Or they
Will completely
Over re-act,
And send you to
A therapist
Which sometimes
May help
And other times
May make worse
The depression.
But sometimes
If you tell
The right people
They will simply
Be there for you
And help you through
And whether
They know how
Depression works
Or not
It often
Does not matter
So much as the fact
Of knowing
That someone out there
Truly cares
About what happens
To you.
And that
Is the only
Universal
Relief.
And so thank you
For being there
When you
Can.
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 12:21 AM UTC
*THIS IS THE LEPROSY TANGO
Imagine a lepers' hospital somewhere in the jungle;
it's St Valentines Day and everyone is looking for love.
Let the music begin...*
Leprosy!
I think I've got leprosy;
At least my doctor
Assures me it's so.
Oh! Oh! Oh!
Leprosy!
I'm pleased I've got leprosy;
At least for the moment,
Till my privy parts go.
One by one my bits
And pieces, they drop off
And I must be so careful
Whenever I cough.
Yes! Yes! Yes!
Leprosy!
Oh yes, I have leprosy
And I'm so happy
Cos it's a great way to go.
OLE!
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 11:50 AM UTC
there's blood drying under my nails and i can still taste the blood in my mouth
i keep scratching and clawing at myself
a self-induced appearance of leprosy without the actual disease
i'm biting my lips, my mouth, my nails
there are strips and chunks of my own flesh sticking in my throat
i guess you could say it's a bit ironic that i'm choking on myself, that i'm slowly turning myself inside out
maybe if i just scratch harder, scrape faster
(scratch and sniff but with flesh and blood)
god i need to see open wounds I need to open every single bump in my skin
i yank out my hair and eat the skin off my fingertips but it's ok i don't need it
i claw open the side of my face and i don't need it, i don't need any of it
i need to smell blood, to touch it, taste it
i tripped and scraped my knee open and let me tell you i savored that moment
i hate getting hurt but i love the aftermath
sore throbbing fingers and blood in my mouth that's what i live for
jesus bled from every pore and i envy him
i'm a monster but the only one i'm killing is myself so it doesn't really matter
i don't really matter
maybe if i scratch enough i'll dig a better person out of this skin and maybe they won't smell like death
maybe they will be whole and maybe they'll be able to stand it
one, two, three new scabs on my shoulders, my neck, my face
one, two, three scars on my arms, my legs, my back
i'm no vampire but i still need blood on my hands and it's sure as hell not innocent blood because it's mine
one of these days i'm going to fall apart and i mean that literally
gnawing on my own bones will take it's toll i'm going to collapse in a pile of my own organs and i'm going to enjoy it
it will smell like blood
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 4:31 PM UTC
I bent my toes over the tub
like talons on a sunbaked branch
and clenched the curtain
in my gloved hands.
I sprayed Tilex on a scouring
pad and scrubbed the black mold
riddling the ceiling and caulked
edges of the shower like leprosy.
My lungs filled with nitrogen,
oxygen, and argon as well as
sodium hypochlorite and hydroxide,
spores, and mycotoxins.
I staggered backwards, trying
to find solid ground but found
only a dazed, curtain-wrapped
fall to the cold linoleum below.
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 12:02 PM UTC
The Super Heroes of Rock!
There’s a little person named Gem, with a banjo in his hands;
But he’s too drunk to play.
There’s a guy with one arm and he’s slamming the drums
And I think his name is Dave.
Jenny plays the Bass, with a rash on her face
And she’s going to die today.
The lead guitarist (Jimmy) has no legs,
But he always tries his best.
But his lack of fingers and thumbs,
Is starting to become a pain
And the fact I can’t sing!
Well it doesn’t mean a thing,
Because we’re not even getting paid to play.
No we’re not, getting paid to play.
Because we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we came to save the day.
Yeah we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we came to save the day.
When Kurt decided today was the day
And put a bullet hole in place of his face,
They called the Super Heroes of Rock!
To come and save the day.
And when Black Sabbath crashed the plane
And Axl cancelled the show again.
They called the Super Heroes of Rock!
To come and save the day.
The little person, Gem, he used to sing,
But a girl named Lisa broke his banjo string,
So now he simply comes to our shows
And joins us up on the stage.
He used to be the ladies favorite,
But now he’s lost all of his confidence.
Because he hit the bottle hard
And he hasn’t been the same since.
But we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we’ve come to save the day.
We’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we’ve come to save the day.
And if there’s nothing else I can say,
I guess we’ll just rock the show our way.
Because we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we came to save the day.
And ladies there’s no need to fight;
Just come and form an orderly line.
Then come and be the bands groupies;
With us back stage.
And the fact that I can’t sing!
Well that doesn’t change a thing.
Because we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we do this voluntarily, anyway.
We jump into empty gigs slots,
When a band’s singer has lost the plot.
We’re the rehab missionaries
And we don’t get paid to play.
Because we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we’ve come to save the day.
Yeah we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we came to save the day.
And if our music isn’t your thing;
Well we already know we stink.
But we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we only came to save the day.
Could you give us back Jimmy’s false legs?
He only wanted to try and crowd surf.
Things are already bad enough for him,
What with the leprosy and he’s just lost his girl
And I think Jenny has died,
I can see Dave’s put a drumstick in his eye.
But we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we’ve come to save the day.
Yeah we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we’ve only come to save the day.
Yeah we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And our music will never be stopped.
Because we’re the Super Heroes of Rock!
And we’ve only came to save the day.
(C)2011 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Jul 4, 2018
Jul 4, 2018 at 5:02 PM UTC
In Your name, there is healing
Cities with an epidemic illnesses
Stands like the Mt. Horeb
Mighty in posture forever
As Your stretch stretch Your hands
Leprosy’s from every nation cast down
Desperate heart finds, its home
In the green pasture besides the still water
The night will be as it is
But the morning bring great deliverance
At some point of, there will be songs
Of thankfulness from the inside
Your love for us never fails and cease
Springs of water flows like fountain
From Your grace to my place
Im once frail and sick but im release
Far from the medicine and gurney
Your faithfulness in my life
Brings tremendous miracles in many ways
I just I just declare it in faith and love
I say to the world You are Healer
A great Physician of the Father
I experience it right now, the touch
Tomorrow will be a testimony like no other
May 7, 2010
May 7, 2010 at 7:37 PM UTC
Freezing Moon by the stereo
and as a bed poet
I'm takin' a ****
*Did you know about that guy
who slit his wrist… on this?* she says.
No; Martha, Jessica, Julia: but still…
Here, alone, with the MacBook Air
- or was it Pro? Nevertheless,
an useless tool for worthless ****
**** Pr0n, Pony - ************
Here, alone, I and only I writes with the capital I.
And after the **** has gone
it feeds the air with oriental glams of leprosy:
and after a long working day I am not afraid,
watching its face, as I'm flushing it in the toilet
just like all the bitches' poetries @ Home-Poetry.
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 5:02 PM UTC
a
malignant cancer grows inside this test
tube today in longing abundance escaping
with our humanity equally adherent to this
cause of death in ***** where theater
diametrically opposed will cherish it again
with leprosy approx sort of this vacation
that's well in remission with heredity again.
.
Jul 30, 2017
Jul 30, 2017 at 8:21 AM UTC
1) 12 thousand tweets and none of them are substantial. They're becoming less and less about you though. Maybe that's what is substantial about them.
2) Something in the way you wrap sin in worship.
3) I'm an arson waiting to happen, is the funeral pyre really necessary?
4) Writing about you angrily isn't doing it anymore. I want to smash bricks through windshields that used to hold flowers I bought you.
5) Looks like you're not at the bottom of this one either. ****
6) My love has always been leprosy.
7) You're the interlude, not the chorus. But, that's okay I'm a terrible vocalist anyway.
8) She wants to date boys that are self aware and boy did she hit the jackpot.
9) You smile with the grace of grandmothers and I'm a bad boy like your grandpa after the War.
10) Can I cut out your grin and put in on the wall next to my framed poster of Bob Dylan and Charles Bukowski?
11) Trace my outline in chalk when I finally drink myself to sleep. I'm euthanizing the pieces of me that belong to you.
12) If I find you in Heaven won't you be in his arms? If I find you in Hell won't you be my torment?
13) You make me feel as insignificant as God does and I think that says something about prayer.
14) I quit paying my phone bill so I'd quit dialing your number like a suicide hotline.
15) My teeth are rotten like the lies that spill out of my teeth. You find me beautiful and I've never been more self-conscious.
16) Your silence fills my abdomen like daggers and words clot where crimson should flow.
17) Loving you is ************
18) My heart is at a crossroads and you're drowning in dust in the rearview mirror.
19) You prefer the subtle burns. The flames so hot they sever nerve endings when they lick your fingers the way I imagine I would.
20) She sings the body electric and I'm forced to worship her through computer screens and the scratch of needle on vinyl.
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 6:08 AM UTC
If you were a shrub, you would be a good shrub!
Hello! SNIFF You smell different when you're awake! (Courtesy of Kollitiki)
I hate a lot of people, but you are not one of them. I also hate ducks. WOW do I ever hate ducks.
Hi there! Will you marry me?
Wanna come over to my place? I'll show you all 89.3 of my cats!
Hey babe, you wanna buy me a drink? Oh, no just water. I'm not allowed alcohol in this bar since the chainsaw incident last month with my exboyfriend....
Look babe, I know this sounds like one of those fake sobs stories made up to get you laid, but how about coming home with me? I have a terminal illness and it would just make my life complete if you would come home with me. Thank you so much baby, bless your soul. Oh, what illness? Ummm ...leprosy....
Tries to be seductive with scalp and elbows
I LOVE YOUR FAAAACE!!!!!!! (Courtesy of the ever brilliant Spencer Craig)
Your left eyebrow is ****
I don't care about my dates having good hair or a lack of BO, so you and I should date.
HIIIIIIIII I BAKED YOU A SALAD!!!
Here is a fire extinguisher gorgeous ;) .......Sorry for lighting you on fire...
Hey babe, did anyone ever tell you? Your eyes are as green as um those green sticky note thingies they sell at Walmart, and your hair is the color of frying pans.
Hey cute thing, wanna hear a fun fact? It is physically impossible to lick your elbow. Well, I mean, for you. I meant to say it is physically impossible for YOU to lick your elbow, I could lick your elbow if I wanted, that would be physically possible. (demonstrates your ability to lick the "cute-thing's" elbow) HEY WAIT COME BACK!
HEY! WANNA SEE MY SNOWMAN COLLECTION???????
I have your name tattooed on my **** wanna see? (Courtesy of The Girl Who Loved You)
Did you fall from heaven? Cause you look a little banged up... (Courtesy of The Girl Who Loved You)
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 1:15 AM UTC
Here hails a huge, long and dragonish snake,
With myriads of dangerous heads on its thorax,
Roaming up and down in a nefarious duty
All over the African streets and hamlets,
Villages and terrains, the abodes of poor folks,
Swallowing daughters and sons of this land,
Swallowing a handful of them on each bite,
They are in a forlorn despair like never before,
Defenselessly succumbing to the dragon once in the grip,
Young and old, prebubescent and all others are cancers’ fodder,
Africa is truly diminishing to the abysmal jaws of cancer,
Forget of initial vices of *** Ebola and leprosy,
Forget of the contemporary terrorism and ethnic warlordism,
Cancer is ruthlessly swallowing poor folks of Africa
Into its inferno of early deaths, rendering many parentless,
A knot for the living to put aside pride and seek genuine help,
For the myriad heads of dragonish cancer violently **** the prey,
I have seen sons and daughters of poor Africa in cancerous agony,
Often with a blocked food pipe when in the grip of throat cancer,
Non-stop vaginal bleeding at mercilessness of cervical cancer,
In the torture of brute pulling weight in grip of scrotal cancer,
On the top of maximum pain in the grip of breast cancer
Humorously desperate before menacing eyes of death,
When misfortunately in the grip of heart cancer,
Deathly starvation condemns many poor folks to grave,
Always when in the unlucky tentacle of intestinal cancer,
In this desperate land of Africa where basic hospital
Stands a luxury, affordable by the rich in the political class,
As the poor without choice die and die and die,
O who will take me out of Africa, this nonchalant Africa?
Before the dragon of cancer condemns me down to its
Inferno of pains and miserably violent death!
I fear death due to punctured lungs without solace,
I fear death due to stunted blood cells without succor
I fear death due to poisoned blood without palliative
When the cancerous heads of ; lung cancer, blood cancer,
And Liver cancer will besiege this land of Africa to hold me a captive.
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 5:42 AM UTC
My hot leg shakes
***** dog mud whiskers.
Moist cardboard box
houses all my barks.
The darkness of night
is much too dark;
disease, fleas and despair
like lonely rain under
street light with broken lamp.
Growling demons prowl
with death-eaten distorted
leprosy masks, and a red eye
to ****
I consumed my street.
In the gutter
stars got caught in my throat.
My fur, like a prostitute’s ****
stinks of strong *****
I lay down and I won’t
get up to run,
or ****
or smoke.
Out here the dumpster
claims the soulless.
Torn apart unnaturally-
pierce, shred, peace.
Jul 6, 2010
Jul 6, 2010 at 3:08 PM UTC
Oh, I would like falling
Screaming on the street
Sentences of wild nothingness
Biting the air like leprosy
I hate all and I’m against all
It’s coded directly into my DNA
Not my fault or responsibility
I bite my tongue off and I swallow it
My flesh melts into a pit in me
I got no words to keep me alive
A kennel of puppy’s ravenous
A dog biscuit in a leash with rabies
Oh, I would like falling
Screaming on the street
Sentences of wild nothingness
Biting the air like leprosy.
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 7:01 AM UTC
There is a couch and it is where I fall.
My seventeen year-old legs,
bandaged with bumblebee knee socks,
arch like ****** pink lawn-flamingo joints.
Crookedness meets at
cigarette skin thighs: grape-kiss fingerprints,
like mental leprosy, projected.
My eyes meet at where fingers told me to stay
and where the knuckles followed.
Acorn ***** hair sleeps in a tuft,
woken by the brush of a thirty-three year-old soccer coach.
-
My Vans grip sandpaper tape,
preceding clicks: sliding up and down,
like graduation day maternal comfort,
like dirt-under-the-fingernails ************
Clicking wheels, sound waves
smacking across asphalt jungle.
Sounds escaping and reminding me
of how I'll never.
I'm not in love -- not sure if I can,
be affectionate towards the things
I don't understand.
I'm not in love -- even if I could,
I don't think I'd care like I should.
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 7:56 PM UTC
Such a shame to let loose
That I have absolutely no clue what I'm doing
But pretending seems to work so well;
You all claw at plasticine symbols
The letters deplored with a swish of the ink well.
Calligraphic self destructions mean something to somebody
Over an ocean with eyes so slight as to shine in the darkness,
Glinting in robes of black on the rooftops of rich dynastics
And the rhymes of yesterday creeping to the forefront,
Reminding me just of how hopeless hopelessness is--
The assonance of a retreating boxcar
Is steaming into the backdrops of consciousness.
Is it time to rewind somewhere?
The visages of paintings only mean so much
To the blind bats on cave walls in cavernous reaches
Of static television snow drifts.
It seems that you and I have come to the biggest of filamentous rifts:
Sifting between now and then we have mind-skips
Of epic proportion, a sickened distortion
Of all of the children left in their contortions
It's all leprosy in my eyes
Since the skies are burning down as we pinpoint abortion.
And we release that defeat, and try to find meaning in it all:
A lie of great size
Told from my lips yet it was--
You who believed me.
Together we made a chimera
A deception even worse than anything I've ever known
I said that some god had told me all the things that
that
that--
I can't begin to begin an apology
My mouth mummified by request next to Jeremy Bentham
I only wanted what's best for you--
But look at what you've done!
Oh, Crusades! Oh, Crusades!
Children don't lie with your eyes on the sunset
For Nietzsche is the ultimate navigator!
And you finally catch sight of the top of an alligator
floating in the oil, staring at you
slanted eyes smiling cruel.
It all makes sense now, what half believed lies
That explain how the darkness will come to rise
But the opposite side of our crystalline marble
Has known all along, they knew all along!
Facing the east, wasn't He?
Then even he knew
Perhaps what I said was not all untrue
And in fact
the fault lies with Him
Not me,
Not you.
Sincerely,
The Bible.
Dec 30, 2010
Dec 30, 2010 at 6:09 PM UTC
i like you.
i shouldn't like you,
it makes my life harder
and leaves me confused and jealous
but i like you
and it feels good.
i like how casual we are--
so casual that i don't even have to use capitals--
and how you touch me just to make me shiver,
how you steal small kisses
and then laugh because you know you shouldn't have
i like how i tell you everything
and you don't even flinch:
if i ran up to you tomorrow,
threw my arms around your neck
and screamed in your ear
"i have leprosy and a brain tumor!!!"
i know you would rough up my short short hair
and say
**** that's probably serious."
and then buy me a cup of coffee
while i told you my leprosy and brain tumor troubles
i like how you put your hand on the small of my back
as if you own me,
as if you won me,
as if you're pretending to shout to the world
that i'm yours now, and you know how i take my coffee,
and you know which shirt is my favorite, and you know how to make love to me
and that they should all take that into account
when looking at us together
as we walk through the aquarium or the park or the restaurant
i'll never admit it
but i like it when you get frustrated;
"just kiss me," you say
and i always say "i can't"
but secretly i'm thinking about that crooked tooth of yours
and if i could taste what we had for lunch
and if our glasses would make a plastic noise
when they collide, frame to frame,
snuggling like we are
and it makes me smile a secret smile
that i have just for you
and no one else
and yes, i sleep next to someone else,
someone i love more than life itself,
someone i made a home with,
someone i won't leave
but i like you.
May 4, 2011
May 4, 2011 at 6:26 PM UTC