"versace" poems
[Intro:]
'Sace, 'sace
'Knock one, 'knock one
Mustard on the beat, **
[Hook:]
Shirt, shirt by Versace
***** you better **** sumn
** Hoes wanna knock one
***** you better **** sumn
Shirt, shirt by Versace
***** you better **** sumn
** Hoes wanna knock one
***** you better **** sumn
[Verse 1: Kirko Bangz]
I just bought a shirt for tonight, **
And it cost five-hundred (Better **** sumn!)
I seen a bad ***** at the light, oh!
My car cost two-hundred (Better **** sumn!)
Uh, got 'Sace on the chain
Louis, that's my side ** Versace, that's my main
'Sace in the car so that's 'Sace in the lane
All day I dream about Versace on the linen
****** at work and now she bugging me. Versace John Lennon.
I only want the ***** if she expensive
**** the ** in Versace, had some boojie *** children
Doing what I’m suppose to do
I'm in Versace my ****** they in 'Sace too
Ain't no fun unless we all get some
If I'm ******* then my ****** they ******* too
[Hook:]
[Verse 2: French Montana]
Hundred-Thou' what I'm buying here?
Talking lion head ***** better **** sumn!)
Hundred-Thou' on these Cuban Links.
Medusa Face ***** better **** sumn!)
And my shirt eight-hundred
And just copped a honey ***** better **** sumn!)
These bottles they hundred
I just copped a hundred (Man, ***** better **** sumn!)
Got syrup by the liter. ***** Homie, Ima beat it
Catch the ***** like Jeter haa
Picture a ***** balling the ***** get to calling
******* get to fallin
Kamikaze. Shirt by Versace
Know my diamonds flash paparazzi
Give a **** about a hater
I be getting to the paper
**** ***** get your weight up haa
[Hook:]
[Verse 3: YG]
It's YG 400!
Shirt Versace, ******* is a hobby
I love a ***** that **** **** so sloppy
In high school she was a **
Hundred dollar bills on the floor
***** you better **** sumn!
And that's straight up
I prefer a bad ***** with no make-up
I got my cake up. Ya'll playas say sumn
I'm never paying for ***** and I'm never going bankrupt
My shirt's Versace. ***** red like Rudolph
Try to rob me I'll **** back that shooter
Trying to count how many ******* ***** I ate
Why you do that? Cuz I love how it taste. Ooo!
Me and Kirko on that purple
Geeked up like Urkel
Middle fingers in the air I don't trust you *******
Spent my money on me so I can **** you ******* Ooo!
[Hook:]
[Verse 4: G-Haze]
Got a shirt by Gianni
In your main ** that's where you can find me
Why these haters want to mean mug me
Cuz I'm coming down clean and they ******* wanna **** sumn
Trick you better **** sumn
Stepped in the party make a ***** wanna cuff sumn
Po-Po that's a No-No
Give me Ocho-Cinco!
Uhh, **** that ****** by Versace when I hit from the back
She gon' call me "Papi" while she sit up on my lap
Sip syrup lean and I got it from the trap
But I ain't a dope boy
Shirt by Versace got me feeling like a coke boy
Gold grillz, gold chain, LMG be the game
***** you better **** sumn!
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 1:25 PM UTC
And I always find, yeah, I always find something wrong
You been putting up with my **** just way too long
I'm so gifted at finding what I don't like the most
So I think it's time for us to have a toast
Let's have a toast for the **********
Let's have a toast for the ********
Let's have a toast for the scumbags
Every one of them that I know
Let's have a toast for the jerk-offs
That'll never take work off
Baby, I got a plan
Run away fast as you can
[Verse 1: Kanye West]
She find pictures in my e-mail
I sent this ***** a picture of my ****
I don't know what it is with females
But I'm not too good with that ****
See, I could have me a good girl
And still be addicted to them hoodrats
And I just blame everything on you
At least you know that's what I'm good at
[Hook]
[Bridge]
Run away from me, baby, run away
Run away from me, baby, run away
It's about to get crazy, why can't she just, run away?
Baby, I got a plan, run away fast as you can
[Verse 2 - Pusha T]
24/7, 365, ***** stays on my mind
I-I-I-I did it, all right, all right, I admit it
Now pick your next move, you could leave or live wit' it
Ichabod Crane with that ************* top off
Split and go where? Back to wearing knockoffs, haha
Knock it off, Neiman's, shop it off
Let's talk over mai tais, waitress, top it off
Hoes like vultures, wanna fly in your Freddy loafers
You can't blame 'em, they ain't never seen Versace sofas
Every bag, every blouse, every bracelet
Comes with a price tag, baby, face it
You should leave if you can't accept the basics
Plenty hoes in the balla-nigga matrix
Invisibly set, the Rolex is faceless
I'm just young, rich, and tasteless
P!
[Verse 3: Kanye West]
Never was much of a romantic
I could never take the intimacy
And I know I did damage
Cause the look in your eyes is killing me
I guess you are at an advantage
Cause you can blame me for everything
And I don't know how I'mma manage
If one day you just up and leave
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 12:30 PM UTC
me? these days?
i have to bribe bonsai tigers
to fall asleep by giving them
excess treats,
drink myself to a limit
and then take insomnia tablets,
glance at the stars
and gag up a bolshevik black hole,
think about russian
newly-wed millionaires
spending so mcuh the taxes go up,
testifying: well when the full circus
with elephants and missing acrobats
comes... and there's no french revolution
versace... we're in bigger crap
we thought we were...
so i took to peddling, keeping heart
rate with feeling rather than
a heart-rate keeper on the wrist known
as apple / iWank...
you'll never believe the amount
of creativity that comes from Onan...
it's like that story of onan and samson
like it's that story of cain and abel...
you'd have to be a mozart to find a creative
continuum in women rather than
beethoven in the hive of being deaf...
say rich and thus say spend...
say poor and thus say like a primate
with two flint stones... what the hell is this?!
japanese crow reduced their beak for
nut crushing purposes into a car tire.
FIRE! FIRE! PROMETHEUS!
so came the world favouring thought
from prometheus' liver
when in diaper-shelter postman pat delivery
by a stork... but each of us that got the slit
of liver never claimed origins in the apple
adam ******* out when eve forgot
that satan's singularity was expressed in
a pluralism: eat this apple, depilate,
and you and adam will be like the gods...
but then the metrosexual emerged
with shaved legs and a shaved chest...
down the drain that dream went:
as long as you eat the apple and know
you have hairy legs... i'm sure whatever you
say he will be ordained with pleasure to perform...
eve - i need a hammer
adam - here babe
eve - i need a nail
adam - here babe
eve - i need five planks of wood, four legs one like an abdomen
adam - here babe
eve - mash it up
adam - hey babe, what's that?
eve - a ****** table, tapestry for porcelain!
adam - woah! that's great!
eve to god - this adam is a ****** robot!
satan to eve - well... get ready for ******
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
You were in a Donatella Versaci masterpiece
I was in a Bottega Veneta custom
Diana Krall was in the stereo
Lemon lobster baking in the oven
And you and I
You and I were slow dancing like eighth graders
In the living room
With the coffee table pushed to the wall
And the T.V. cabinet cupboard shut
So we could have a little more room for our evening waltz
I guess that's what I get
For watching a romantic comedy and the Emmy's
On the same night
And even though that dream may be twenty years from ever coming true,
Because both you and I were in our forties
Trying to impress each other with how interesting
We could keep our relationship
Even though we both knew all we had to do
Was wake up in the morning and smile at each other
To fall in love again,
It was worth it because in that dream
I could actually dance
And the lobster was amazing
Say what you will
I have very sensory dreams
And things feel, taste, and smell like they do in real life
And it may have had something to do
With how beautiful you looked in that dress
Or the scent you were wearing
But that lobster was amazing
And your hands on my shoulders
Was a massage you weren't giving
As we two stepped through the room
And my lips mouthing every line
That danced through the air
Directly onto you earlobe
Was just an excuse for my cheek to touch yours
And as Veneta and Versace got comfortable on the floor
And my sensory dreams turned into a little bit more
My fleeting thoughts were of your smile in the morning
And I know you don't see yourself there yet
Taking pleasure in slow dancing
And waking up next to each other
But I see myself there just as clear
As I see myself right here
And I'll to drop the Veneta for jeans
Your Versace for pajamas
Lobster for KFC
If I'm slow dancing with you to Diana Krall in our living room
I don't give a **** if
We own the coffee table to push out of the way
I want to spend my life with you
I want to spend my life slow dancing with you
I want to spend my life whisper-humming
Standards into your ear slow dancing
In the living room of our house with you
Duplex with you
Apartment with you
Trailer with you
I don't care
I want to spend my life slow dancing with you
I want to spend my life with you
And I'm not being too sweet
I'm being too honest
And I know grand romantic gestures aren't your thing
Girl, flowers on Valentine's Day aren't your thing
But I hope someday soon you make a hobby out of slow dancing
Because I had a dream last night
I'd love to come true
Jan 11, 2010
Jan 11, 2010 at 10:19 AM UTC
met a man once
and he took me to a steakhouse
the type where tuxedo men come back
with a twee bite-sized piece of meat on a plate
he ordered my steak for me
and though it glistened
the slab barely satisfied
the crack in my teeth
i was starving
and he kept talking about
business deals
and networking
to the type of cars that make him hard
which one of these thousand ******* forks
is best to stab?
making friends
with a bunch of pruned men
chatting business
he introduced me
she speaks Spanish
how exotic
raw and juicy
STEAK
sure does go well with potatoes
i started ordering loads of wine
when they all agreed that it was time
to make America great again
i downed even more down my throat
‘till I was seeing spuds in Versace
drinks for everyone!
we ordered like five bottles
so drunk
that I started mooing
but if this gasbag ever hopes to get laid
he’ll need to go to the slaughterhouse for that
meanwhile, let the bartender do the milking
Mar 8, 2017
Mar 8, 2017 at 3:31 PM UTC
The world is an addiction
Eyes filled with vanity
Wonder if it's green like envy
Wonder if it all spring from the same seed
See one with it and you have to get it
By any means, necessary
Even running at them at a red light
Close to a district
But how we split a watch three way
Guess two must have to die today
The world is an addiction
Selling ***
We want to see more violence
More brutality even the headlights on our cars getting meaner
Is this what the media is teaching us?
In 30 second intervals feeding us
That poison
The world is an addiction
But where to find rehab
Is it with in a church
For even pastor Mason wants his dough and he doesn't pray for a dollar
So I come to my knees and ask for forgiveness
For the Versace and Dolce and Gabbana
Everything I don't need while there are kids who don't eat
I was like them, hungry
guess that's why I buy things
The world is an addiction
It flows through my veins like heroine, it goes up my nose like ******* inhaled it through my mouth like drough, smoke it of a pipe like Crack
For I desire everything I don't have
The world is my addiction
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 5:18 PM UTC
If I once again saw the sullen and timeworn eyes resting not quite comfortably beneath his meager gray mane
I would be ever so quick to believe that his all too familiar, yet paternally foreign face has surely seen better days
Days which I for many a nights had precariously pondered the choice I had made
To not chase but to erase such a great yet fleeting charade
What I once held onto dearly as a weekly escape, a glorious escapade we could never sustain
Jan 12, 2021
Jan 12, 2021 at 7:32 PM UTC
#NoMakeUp
Chic lookin' like death,
with her dyed platinum blond hair,
her fake silicone **** and all that make up,
over dressed like Halloween **** girl I'm scared,
the less you wear,
the less impressed I am,
you get dressed up just to get messed up,
smoke a cigarette then get your teeth whitened,
you get done up glam,
just to get run up in,
when,
in the world was it ever okay,
to,
disrespect yourself that way?
Getting fckt by strangers,
without getting money or commitments,
that means you're like a **********
a ********** that's not even good at business,
you're a despicable disgrace,
to the entire female race,
you wear all that cover-up,
because you've got Krocodil face,
that's Krocodil with a 'K',
better get it straight,
the kind from Russia,
that will eat your face,
eat your whole face off,
face it,
the facts are basic,
real women look way better without any fake make-up.
The only reason you need it,
is because you don't see this,
plus you fill your stomach,
with fast food *****
you're going down in flames,
what was your name Halley Comet?
Saving money on food,
so you can buy cosmetics,
maybe if you changed your diet,
you wouldn't need cosmetics,
there's nothing romantic,
about cosmetics,
cosmetics cause cancer,
don't you get it?
More vegetables,
less processed cheese,
and your face won't look,
like it's got a disease,
please,
remember these words,
real women look better without any make-up,
without all those name brands we're all naked,
believe whatever you want to,
but these words will still be true...
So stop dying,
your hair to death,
and trying,
to get the guys to stare at your breast,
you are,
so much more beautiful naturally,
and if you,
go natural well actually,
you might find,
a man who loves your mind,
a man that truly loves you,
for who you are inside.
and I promise this,
in all honestness,
no man will ever fall in love,
with a woman because of the size of her breast,
or the color of her hair,
or the brand of her dress,
no real man will ever really care,
whether your outfit is Versace or Guess,
because good men care about the real you,
not fake fashion brand names,
you are not a cow nor are you cattle,
so why would you want a label branding?
And I promise this,
in all honestness,
that this is,
honest honestness.
Real men fall in love with real women,
because of who they really are,
not who they pretend to be,
real men fall in love with real women,
because they love her soul's avatar,
and her divine femininity…
So let your hair grow,
back out to it's natural color,
if you honestly want,
to find a natural lover,
and save your self,
for those special lovers,
that are truly deserving,
of all of your natural wonders,
leave the fake hair,
for the fakers,
leave the toners,
for the loners,
leave the make up and fake dyes,
for the hookers and transvestites,
you,
are beautiful,
without,
the manicured cuticles,
you are beautiful,
just the way you naturally are,
there's no need to alter yourself,
with some silicone and scars.
Just be beautiful Beautiful,
there is no need to pretend,
and leave the makeup and fake body parts,
for the trannies and mannequins... ∆
Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 3:16 PM UTC
tight silk ******* with the lilac bra to match,
cream coloured knee high socks.
a collection of classic rock on vinyl and a compliments jar covered in news articles.
too many celebrity perfumes, but a versace collection that makes her think of the beach;
peach smelling deoderant.
chapter books on the floor accompanied by hair ribbons of baby blue and cotton candy pink,
****** by Vladimir Nabokov laying near the juvinile pale legs of beautiful sixteen,
as she paints each toe nail red, pink, white.
almost naked body, remember her tight, fresh lace set
hair perfectly auburn, lips perfectly light coral
mouth slightly open
Led Zepplin playing.
hairspray and rose powder,
unlit vanilla candles and twilight scented creams
she smells faintly of Modern by Banana Repulic and her daddy's cigarettes.
silently waving, a flag of patriotism
the beautiful, elegant sixteen.
-part 1
conceptcollection
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 11:46 PM UTC
Facebook makes me want to *****
Spew chunks of fake houses
perfect spouses
So many poses
perfect smiles and staircases
tout it.
Adorn rose-colored glasses
as you watch the egregious *****
boast champagne in their glasses
as they fool masses.
What does it matter the square footage
if you can’t teach your children how to solve problems?
Or start movements?
Or have values?
I’d rather wear hand-me-downs and have roots
than don Versace and walk in rich boots.
When the day ends, as you are lounging in your satin linens
do you ask yourself how you grew today?
How you moved today?
How you flew today?
Well I am…
So get out of my way.
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 8:00 PM UTC
gets up from chair, and breathes in deeply
people are made up of so many things, it's amazing
1. Oxygen
2. Carbon
3. Hydrogen
4. Nitrogen
5. Calcium
6. Phosphorus
7. Potassium
8. Sulfur
9. Sodium
10. Magnesium
i guess paying attention in biology did pay off
i remember when i was 11 years old my brother showed me a movie clip where Charlie Chaplin spoke in-front of tons of people
he said "we think too much and feel too little".... i finally understand
and if you feel sad, i hope you can find a therapist, or i hope you can afford a 12 pack of beer at the liquor store to ease what you feel right then
walks out the house
looks around and smiles
i found hope on the corner of arapaho and shiloh, it was 7:32 pm, i remember because i texted myself saying "dude you're finally happy"
no more desires of being dead ever came to mind
i found out what a man i can be if i pushed myself and loved without regretting, without being scared of falling for things for the wrong reasons
i found out to learn everything and grasp whatever came my way even if it brought me to my knees
i'm going to die fulfilled
i feel like rhyming, sorry, i'm not a good rhymer, but here i go....
garden of green leaves
glistening tress
scented hives, buzzing bees
we lie under shaded trees
we pray to who we're afraid to deceive
if we do, we rot even if we pleaded on our knees
summer breeze, ******* and THC
don't leave
addictions are hard to let go when i love you like grinded holy mary ****
i'm not a good rhymer, i think the song that goes like "versace versace versace versace versace"
was better than what i just w. r. o. t. e.
haha.
it's getting dark, i need to go to sleep
turns off light
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 11:25 PM UTC
Strobe lights, low eyes, blown mind
Four Eyes, neck ice, blown white, no mind
Nice cars, dark fade, night games, insane
I swear this place has no ******* life
And that's exactly how I want it
Room spinning, wheel of fortune
Fortune favored me, so my shackles gold, I am tortured
The tour bus tore us from our exposure, to life
Bass booming, ear drums popping off like a hundred guns
Saluting troops with marching bands, they all cheer in unison
My pains boo'd off by my pill prescriptions
Not a nun, cause we are ****** struck by Smith's arrow
Rock stars chose the path that is most narrow
I don't know where the time went, my mind set
This bombs clock ticks, I die inside on the pursuit of profit
The prodigal son grew up to be a villain
Stuck in the streets, struck so his sins can't be forgiven
Swear this devil is sleeping with finer women
Designer linen, Hermes, Versace, Givenchy
Italian names with a tendency to stop me
But me stopping would lead traffic jams
Tank is empty, can I make it, not sure if I can
Hop out the driver side, you can keep this whip
Wasted all my life, dreaming big, window shopping
Feb 22, 2012
Feb 22, 2012 at 9:13 PM UTC
Spewing through my pores
are obviously vocal cords
I'm sweating cause don't you notice how heaven is getting bored.
-- And lord I know we children
but give us something appealing,
cause hell it just seems enticing
cause sin is clearly unwilling to,
release us from its wrath and be spiritual,
my spirits in this clash with this alcohol--
but I try not to break the law
by sleeping this poison off
I'm squeamish
believe me
I'm sick
and suffering from withdrawal,
cause all i see is Sandy Hook behind the walls
and in front of my iris
my silence becoming violent
exhaling louder than sirens
I'm sighing cause you be lying,
you say!
That you will save us
if we put nothing above you
but you taking our children
we made them to be just like you:
I'm sleep.
But if I wake up
will you incarnate a savior
cause jesus is highly needed
don't tell me its human nature!?
to pull the trigger,
peal off -- a mind set against the lord,
pop -- pop they let off should i be packing a sawed-off
Na
But I'm speaking from my core
its obvious that I'm lost
I'm screaming but don't you notice how heaven choose to ignore.
And lord I see the irony
but I'm not even 60
why are you choosing to hire me
is it because I'm gifted, a voice?
I had no choice
cause the devil trying to recruit me rolls royce;
Versace starter kit it's not hard to convince me I swear--
he's talking salary
how the ******* will miss me
just put this ounce in your pocket
and listen Nina closely
"just trust me I got your back with Nina don't need a safety"
I'm loyal,
so should I start to bang
cause if you can't beat them stay
I need a hymn to sing as I hold the burner to my face--
remember what the preacher say,
if your feeling lost, pray
I never had a voice
Trayvone Martin never had a say
so is the prayer worth it,
will jesus even surface,
the creases on my faith is shaped like Eve and Adams serpent;
I'm lying to my friends
I'm not religious on purpose
I'm a servant to the truth
but seems the truth is out of service.
Jul 14, 2013
Jul 14, 2013 at 11:57 PM UTC
What’s wrong with me? I’ve been asking myself this all week.
Anyone who knows me will tell you that I weigh questions coldly and logically. Then it hit to me.. it’s summer, silly, and I'm in classes!
A typical summer would find me tanned, sunburned, greased and unkempt, like a happy, sandy, beach hobo, my hair would be either braided or left fly-about to tangle into cotton candy wads.
My bf Peter’s learned to like fine restaurants (You’re welcome). I’d have never left the beach on my own.
“They can bring us anything,” I’d argue, looking up pitiably from my shaded, Tropitone lounge chair.
Around sundown, Peter would have to catch me, slippery oiled and brown, to comb me out and scrub me before dinner.
“Get dressed!” he’d encourage, picking out a dress suitable for dining or casino wear - “I made us a reservation.”
I’d come out of the hotel en-suite in one of their fluffy, Versace, terry towels but invariably, before I was even dry, Peter would shake his head, growl and say, “Com-mere,” holding his arms out a little, palms up
(he’s never been very verbose), and smirking a little, I would, because his expression reminded me of Christmas.
“What about our reservation?” I’d chuckle.
This was, of course, a volunteer situation, where it was up to us all to do our best.
.
.
Songs for thus:
Girls On the Beach by Carter Cathcart
Wouldn't It Be Nice by Papa Doo Run Run
Please Let Me Wonder by Carter Cathcart
Jul 1, 2025
Jul 1, 2025 at 12:13 PM UTC
Apparently blessings soon wither
Where your star shone
Reminisce
In the darkening sky
There's a Taj Mahal!
Undulating endless
Asimetry of
Love
Floating above
The placid
Waters
One
Glimpse ~
My wet hands
Kyoto protocol
Hair in a Thankfury
Violet Versace
And your smiling coasts
Me wrapped in a black coat
Lush lucrative dynamics
Zarathustrian imperative!
Covering your manly
Shoulders
Dig a grave in my
Hollow submarine
Diminishing distance
Was I, to call your firm hand's
Grip ~a lesser degree in Hiking,
Or a postponed poetic height
Thumbs entwined. . .
Spirited as a killer
Eagles mudra
You stare at
My profile
Well ~we stand
Opposing as a lovers
Of A grand Poetic
Name surpassing the time
Awaiting, courting, questioning
Via simile to the blood under
The Bask's barret
No, the ring I've put aside,
My hands are bare tonight!
Bewildered, I´ll stumble forth
within a bright new day to
complete your sermon.
You usually brake the cliche
Walking hand in hand
With Affar Authors
With Dead Spirits
With Alive Authors
Playing dead, unknown
Within the journalists eyes..
When they whisper
Wisdoms to your son's father
When they sturm und drang my sweetest
Sister
The softest spring is coming forth and
I know where to find you. In southern sighs.
Dreamy. Uncatchable.
Playing
Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 11:04 AM UTC
When the birds devour me
I hope they start with the soft tissue
my eyes and ears and mouth destroyed
my senses lost to the sky
When the birds devour me
I hope they find their fill in my stomach
where the weight of the world was carried far too long
wearing my viscera like Versace
When the birds devour me
I hope they pick my digits - one through ten and ten again
so I may touch every part of the world when they carry me away
so that my feet may fall on grounds I’d only dreamed to grace
When the birds devour me
I hope they tear open my chest and make their way behind these ribs
not realizing the irony of the situation as they sing
and I am filled with the music with each rise and fall
When the birds devour me
I hope they take my bones between them in their thanksgiving, pulling
wishing for legs to run and hands to hold, for lips to kiss
if they only knew, if they only knew
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 12:37 PM UTC
the oil of the high grade pollen
coated in sticky honey-like crystals
old school wrap and a vaporizer
instills calm where there had been chaos
oh how the mighty have fallen
offers to go places
live music in an alleyway bar
cocktails till dawn
a rave under a motorway
the Sub Club for legendary libation
and mingle with familiar hazy faces
and yet,
he warms to the four walls of home
the symmetrical wooden rail border
the OCD driven picture placement
the videos in genre specific
alphabetical order
outside the city streets throng
stag-hen crews in costume
tourists off the beaten path
seeking the Water of Life
students drinking the bank of mum and dad dry
mid-week workers letting of class A steam
that for some is clearly too strong
the hordes
of bar ******
pimping their Versace
and Primark combo
any Glasgow bar
where looks could ****
bar telepathy
means he no longer
even has to speak
just have the fiber
to clear the bill
This he calls home.
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 9:04 AM UTC
You are the heart to my beat
The way you make me feel
It's so surreal
I can talk about you for hours
About how I cherish what is ours
Yeah, you've got a hold on me
Yeah, you really make me feel complete
And I'm not lying when I say
I love you pretty baby
You mean so much to me
I'm not lying when I say you're addictive
I am Chanel and you are Versace
You are the apple of my eye
You are mine
And I'm your cherry pie
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 3:48 PM UTC
i never knew that
i'd wear jealousy
so well
that my veil would
perfectly match my
broken in heels
or that my eyes would be smoked
with various fumes
or that when i spoke
your world would continue
to move
unlike the first time
that i met you.
Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 7:24 PM UTC
They preen, they brag, they cluck like hens
Favorite pastime? Schmoozing with friends
They lunch, they party, they go to the races
Wearing Versace and botoxed faces
They worship the sun, the moon, and the stars
And fill up their lives with mansions and cars
They spray tan each day to enhance their appeal
These housewives are everything...except real
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 11:11 AM UTC
I never promised you
a million dollar home
with a Porsche
in the pavered driveway,
a huge closet full
of glittery Versace gowns
or cases of Dom Perignon.
I never said
I'd give you
three trips a year
to the Italian,
let alone the French Riviera.
Isn't one Prada handbag enough,
why do you have to have four?
I know I promised you
my loving heart,
which I tried to delivered.
But you whispered
when you left,
I wasn't good enough
to deliver
the goods you really wanted.
So long,
keep your Miss Dior,
*****
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 5:28 PM UTC
She's the beautiful one.
Wears Versace and French inhales myrrh cigarettes.
Behind blinking veils lies the sun,
While in her eyes, your mind forgets.
Never miss a glance,
Denounce mere recognition.
An eager chance,
Herein lies your new mission.
Tempt her senses,
She's unprotected.
Take down defenses,
Now you're connected.
She doesn't think, she dreams.
All she does is disappear.
Nothing is as it seems,
Your whole world, again unclear.
Tender last words spoken,
Dark nails red on fragile hands.
Another dream broken,
The chemical disbands.
This (and you)
Is (are) her gift.
And this (and you)
Is (are) her curse.
Aug 6, 2011
Aug 6, 2011 at 10:03 AM UTC
Venus-Intergalactico princess,
Why is Victoria keeping so many ******* secrets?
It's time to let the Gucci cats out of the Louis Vuitton iconic bag,
Sparkling Supermodel? can you walk with your hands swinging behind your back?
Legs up front!
Look left!
Look Right!
Turn around!
now you qualify for first class,
Venus-Intergalactico princess,
in your hologram eyes I see a glamorous savage,
Versace snakes to replace your long hair,
Chanel number 5 the breath you fill up in the air,
Your face made of prada is nothing but expensive art,
When you deeped your fingers into glitter and plunged right through my chest to pull out my leathered heart-
I saw an Angel with Cashmere Wings
wearing a glowing Alexander Mcqueen gown
In Jimmy Choo Shoes,
You looked like a queen with a gigantic crown.
Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 3:38 PM UTC
We're both jocks
We come home from practice achy and tired and raw
We both shower and I go to your house smelling like lavender body wash
You spray versace on your chest and your hair is still wet when I get there
I laugh at the bruises on your neck
From me last time
I say hello to your mother and your dogs and complain about how hard I worked and we compare exercises
And how bad they hurt
Then I sit on the couch
Next to you
Your mother is watching some show but she's going to bed soon
Your house is warmly lit
And laughter keeps our faces wide
My family wonders why I love to be here all the time
Your mother offers me food
Like she always does
And I politely decline having just eaten dinner
You put your arm around my shoulder while you ice your knees and we talk about how we **** our bodies up for our passions
But we wouldn't change it for anything
We talk about how we don't want school to start
How we can't believe summer is over
I leave
Usually
Too late
Or too soon
To me and you
Wrapped in one of your hoodies and smelling like your cologne
Then I brush my teeth wash my face and go to bed
Wake up
And do it all over again.
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 2:10 PM UTC
You mean so much to me.
You help me with so much.
You would be on my mind like this.
You would be the Chanel to my Versace.
Who knew I'd fall in love with her sister..
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 8:13 PM UTC