"woulda" poems
Really? Well, don’t be, because it doesn’t help to be sorry. Sorry doesn’t change it. Sorry doesn’t make it go away. Sorry doesn’t “undo” what’s already been done. Sorry doesn’t erase my memory. Sorry doesn’t take away the searing pain in my chest. Sorry ***** I don't want your pity or to hear that no child should ever have to endure what I did. Because **** happens. It happened to me …it happens to millions of other kids. Shoulda…woulda…coulda…
You’re right – I do have so much going for me. I have an education, a career, financial security – the beautiful house w/the picket fence, the 2 kids and the dogs. And it’s all a huge sham! You can take the girl out of the trailer park, but you can’t take the trailer park out of the girl. And that’s what I’m to be commended for??? That doesn’t make me special. I should be commended because I have an education? Things could sure be a lot worse, huh? I could be a crack ***** living on the street with 10 kids in foster care, unable to afford therapy even if I wanted to go. I could be like “them”.
Wow! I’m so awesome. Yay for me! Kudos to the smart chick that spent years being molested by her father and ACTUALLY made something of her life. It’s a miracle!
It’s all such a sham – a dog and pony show. Smoke and Mirrors, my dear! Put on a stylish outfit, and paste on a cheerful smile, and everyone thinks you have it all together….. No one would ever know different. You wouldn’t have known. If I’d have kept my big fat mouth shut!!!!! I should have known better….I should have sat down and weighed the risks, possible opportunities, the roadblocks the problems, and definitely a cost analysis of plan A – trying to work through the ******** of the past, B – continue to live in denial, C – **** myself. …. That’s what a smart business woman would have done. And after all, I’m super smart, huh? A real genius!
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 10:10 AM UTC
Walk onto a stage called life
and take a look around.
There's much to be found in such a small space,
more to give and much to take
as the curtains called and you're pulled into this performance.
Stare into the audience and pray for applause
but what if you're met with silence?
Spotlight on you as your hopes are ejected
and you my friend have just been rejected
and that is a hard thing to take.
So take a seat, a rejection seat.
Front row to your failures as they come In-ter-view.
Call it the Dragons Den the Lions Pit
and yet they ask me what kind of animal i'll be
as i sit and daydream about Spiderman in a suit
listing qualities of make believe
as he's forced to fill in a CV just like me;
not that i'm a superhero,
i'm just saving face you see,
it's just an amusing thought to ease the anxiety.
And the voluntears they come in turn.
Call em that cause they come momentarily
to remind me involuntarily
that sometimes i do need help and not all things are easy,
not all things are meant to be.
So i take a seat, will you take one with me?
As you watch that relationship sail
and wonder how did it fail?
Bon voyAge is irrelevant.
Whether it be school crush folly to divorcee
it's a learning curve right?
Hard when it seems the only thing you taught me
is what it means to feel lonely.
It's cold in that place called the one way street,
so take a seat. Pull up a chair to something that's no longer there
and share in despair as you stare at your feet.
But you will raise your head eventually.
Adopt the thinkers pose, indulge in some feelosophy.
Cause a friend once said to me that rejection is a time for reflection
and i tend to agree.
So tell me, as i stare into the face of rejection
why is it that i see my own reflection?
Am i cursed to take this personally?
It's always the shoulda, woulda, couldas that get to me.
Do they get to you?
If so take a seat.
And are you sitting uncomfortably?
Cause you shouldn't be.
Take comfort as you stare along row upon row of chairs
that stretch along beyond you and me.
Side to side, across from and diagonally.
Filling the Feartre.
There's many to be found in such a small space,
more that give and much that take
and though this may be the closing scene
there's another show tomorrow
and you and I will receive our standing ovation,
just take my hand and stand with me.
Cause this seat was only ever meant to be temporary.
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 1:57 PM UTC
i was there with the locked up free
they stared straight through the bars at me
the gate was open
no one had to stay
they spoke of church in exchange for food
lights out with 50 smelly-ass bad moods
i saw it superseded rude
so, i walked down and ate the trash
i had no church
no shame
no cash
the garlic bread was free
the sweet rolls weren't for me
so, i walked back down to the dead-soul church
to find a name i could besmirch
with lust, debauch, an empty purse
she told me she had her own room and bath
we tried to pull one on the *****
said that we were legal hitched
she asked for proof and I.D.
we didn't have a thing
that ended our sad little fling
goody gumdrops ain't gonna get my ring
grab my gear as i walk i sing
i know the words to everything
if i happen to forget
i'll make up better ones you'll bet
raised my sign and i raised my thumb
hoped a car was gonna come
sat there in the Yakima heat
sign propped up next to my feet
a nice redneck stopped and said
"have a seat"
he was welfare office bound
i was just a broke road-hound
waited for him in the shade
told him jokes for smokes
he made a good trade
got dropped off at an angry sunning truck-stop
flew my sign
one eye out for cops
a white guy in a small red car
pulled up and said
"i'll go that far"
soon we broke down on the road
i was sure my luck would soon implode
instead we put our heads on think
we woulda fixed the kitchen sink
but waters last to beer when i drink
we got some bolts and ******* 'em on
before we knew it we were gone
he got a smile
i got this song
then we hit Seattle like a ****
nothins' right if ya don't know wrong
NOTHINS' RIGHT IF YA DON'T KNOW WRONG
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 1:30 AM UTC
It had to be a yes
It coulda been a sure
There ain't no way to know why don't you go and ask the *****
I'll blame it on the Drinks
no matter what you thinks
**** it up to having fun outside of roller rinks.
Blame it on my Dad
add up all he had
Never had the time talk but yo he wasn't Bad.
But Don't blame it on the ra rah rah raw ape Culture!
Blame it on the hips
the rubbing and the dips
**** a rubber neways it woulda ****** ripped
I asked that ***** twice
don't I sound nice
Check my stats wow Now you know she wanna slice
Hey Hey it wasn't me, It's spaghetti strapped tees
skirt above the knees
my eyes are steady sayin please
I can't control my blink
they way you dress in pink
I'm the best to women no matter what they ****** think
But Don't blame it on the Rap ra ra raw ape Culture!
I saw you from a far
you walked up to the bar
It must have been a sign from god so now your in my car
Of course you are a tease
there's no way that I could leave
A damsel in distress in need of what I gotta see
No one believes that I
could
ever be apart
of
something had to make me
act that way
(YOU)
ain't me
It Won't happen again
boo
believe me cause
I need too
hold on to my status
as the baddest
of the good dudes
So I'll Blame it on the Dress
Girl I won't confess
Blame it on my Name
that got you feeling all that shame
or you can Blame it on the Ra Rah rah Raw ape Culture.
Blame it on the Ra rah Rah raw ape **** Culture.
Blame it on the Drinks
forgetting what you think
Blame it on the Money
cause we all could use some Honey,
Blame it on the Ra Rah rah Raw Ape **** Culture
Blame it on the ra Rah ha ha ha Raw ape Culture!
Soon You'll be a wake
have time to contemplate
No matter what you do
they'll favor me before you
Say whats on your mind
Sell your rhyme to Time
Manufacture a movement
hashtag a catchy tag line
I objectify ya body cause I'm picking up the tab
calling you a goddess but I'll never call a cab
Tell'n me ya problems my shoulder is your tissue
would it make it better If I just got with you
the scratches on ya body are old bf issues
Even Judge and Jury will straight up diss you
So you can Blame it on my Dad
The one I never had
Blame on the rain
*** you faking just for fame
You can
Blame it on the Ra ra rah Raw ape **** Culture
Blame it on the Ra ha ha ha ha **** Culture.
I'm saying what you want
You didn't look that drunk
I make you feel good bout your body
Call me Trump
My hands are all up on you
but you didn't run so I got you
and
I'll blame it on the Stress
the money and success
I'll blame it on the way you looked
standing by my desk
So Blame it on the Ra Rah Rah Raw ape **** Culture
Blame it on the Ra ha Rah Ha ha Haha **** Culture....
Nov 5, 2016
Nov 5, 2016 at 11:57 AM UTC
click clack, sound of the track
busted lighter, jilted firefighter
****** mosquito bleeding blighter
coffee cup, record stuck
panicked post boom stuck in a rut
had you'd never seen her, been her
watched her fly by
is it a plane, wonder bush, brick lane spy
fallen tree, dropped whispers ina wood
shoulda, woulda but never could
pushed by the wind, running around
set off faster, harder, leavin the ground
seen more war than a nu-rave punk
hit the pavement harder than a skool boy drunk
deeper, lower than before
been round the world 3 times over
prayed harder rollin around in clover
teemin, screaming anticipation, panick buy
obsessed with cuckoo, escape with a sigh
darker, lighter, tougher, cornered and lame
call my breath, take my name
shame, dusted, glory be no more
music drags me back from the shore
vacumn packed, culture vulture sister
pierced hot poker, stoke her, twist her
throwin pieces, jigsaw puzzle in the grass
pull my hair, bit my cheek, slap my ***
shorter, tighter loved a whole lot longer
pushed behind, throw back 80's stronger
straightened, heated from a blue rinse dude
i am sitting her 3 minutes from rude
throw me away from here, take a stand
eating raw from inside the hand
ruined, borken levelled tiger print sweater
20 marlboro, 2 strokes and its better
dangermouse, grotbag loved forever
tether me, feed me, clothed in dried leather
Bowie, polka dots, illuminated lights
star brights, fist fights, just rights
scuffed my heels on your broken walk
shut your mouth when you talk
broke you, stalked you, wounded you down
turn away from rain as we run thru town
just like a fire
black crow eating berries from the briar
sacred high, dancing beauty
eyes black and smarting, ****** up cutie
batman, she-ra, Holy ****** Cow!
Look at me, **** me
I'm a big girl now
Jan 21, 2013
Jan 21, 2013 at 5:01 PM UTC
There's a certain kind
That holds you hostage
Way up there in the bleachers
In a red-light district
Cold and cheap
It lures you because you're lurable
Attach and you're stuck up there
In a certain kind
Of dilapidated ivory tower
It's only later on
When you're broken
When the nights have woven
Their history and the light
Has drained
Only when you're pushed out
Only when you're shoved off
Only then does the truth
Begin to talk
Until then it's been silent
Though gradually loosing appetite
For despair, denial, dilemma
Only when unhooked
Does that fierce, quite dismissal
Begin to beg for something else
Only then does
A certain other kind
Begin to go wild for itself
You wonder how yourself
Moldy and molting
And mad with lies
Had so deceived its own
You wonder how
If there is a god
S'he coulda watched you bleed
With self-betrayal
And sat there idle
While you slowly crumbled
But admit it
You were terribly cocky up there
In the pink and belly-full
***** and hookered
If G O D woulda spoken
You woulda spit in the face of divinity
And you probably did
So that certain kind
Watched and waiting
For another
Certain kind
To choke the bejasus outa ya
'til you slowly faded to full stop
And dropped to your knees
To a certain other kind
Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 6:12 AM UTC
*if only I knew how to love...
for my Victoria
winces-grimaces, that these words even leave my fingertips,
reminiscences, a chrome bookmark tab full of decades of near misses,
instances, subway sideway stolen daily glances of she who would be the only, the one, but one day failed to appear, left to dream peer,
and/or
decades long of romanced lasses, flying spectacular super crashes, when my heart-blanched, lanced, and the lawyers danced, poems shriveled as dried ink crack'd and words rusted shut,
cut by so many p'raps, and ugly motives, beautiful covered up, disguised as synapses of sin and insincerity, and I,
the sad man,
both the sinner and the sinned against,
totalities, of shoulda-woulda-asked/kissed-her-gallantly,
activities, when kisses were doorways to trap door rooms
and an over decorated monte cristo prison cell
ah well
the 'and yet,' the 'but for,' a single finger, sealing silenced lips,
passions mourned and irrevocable sensations, frittered, fractured,
all that I calmly called love was sprigs and broken branches,
cut flowers destined to shrivel,
not of what I believed in, something akin to a tree rooted, an oaken strong unbreakable love
of this certain, all approximations, all failed incantations,
for surely, if but only one escaped, could have been saved,
and if truthful love it was,
I would have known it,
for would I have dared to let slip away?
Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 6:05 PM UTC
Disclaimer. They already have this.
God **** where was i
what happened to pokemon go,
I mean wouldn't it be cooler if
the pokemon you caught could battle later
and train them and do tournaments
that's the pokemon go
I woulda wanted
battle in an augmented reality,
virtually with strangers
I mean wouldn't it be hot if you said to some chicik
or dude,
hey my charmanders in close proximity of your squirt\
I uh mean squirtle
battle?
whilst wasted at the pub
Jun 25, 2019
Jun 25, 2019 at 7:49 PM UTC
who created the hole in my soul?
it never was me
tell my why does it hurt so much?
mama said just because
who created the hole in my soul?
life’s supposed to be full
why am i feelin’ emptiness
he came along my heartstrings pulled
he fills my heart and my soul with his
don’t know why i felt alone
he’s my lover, friend and confidante
i swear to god i’m finally home
who created the hole in my soul?
do i wanna to fill it up?
it aches until i have him back again
finally full my empty cup
i gave myself to him and was complete
he took me in and we were whole
but he left forever, he was gone
torn in half he took my soul
who created the hole in my soul?
i have to find what is lost
god i’m beggin’ put it back again
my life is gone and that’s the cost
i was fraught woulda done anything
drownin’ in pain, i hurt so
i had to find myself inside my heart
it was me i sought to know
i gotta fill me with what’s within
never was i incomplete
seeking outer things to fill me up
a sure way to defeat
then i met yet another one
now my spirit is complete
lovers united and whole again
this time we won’t be beat
who created the hole in my soul?
not god but life’s hard blows
put the pieces back to mend my life
now i’m healed and that i know
if you find there’s a hole in your soul
don’t seek that’s in the past
then you can be and take what comes
cuz you can be with you last
yeah, you can be with you at last
©2016janetaylor
May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 at 7:15 PM UTC
the clock chimes
but no one counts
the days move at will
forward, backward
days stand still
the ticking of seconds
lost in the minutia
of the everyday
endless mind chatter
and negative self-talk
heart in a vacuum of speculation
what if -
coulda, shoulda, woulda
WILL NOT
DO NOT
STAY IN THIS PLACE
strain to listen
can you hear it
it's there
in the undercurrent of life
lost beyond yourself
tick tock
a shadow of a sound
tick tock
time never stops
tick tock
feel the minutes turn to days
a sense of time thrown away
on nothing
it's easy
so much easier
to wonder
what if -
why me -
than to take a deep breath
and realize
the world does not revolve
around a solitary soul
and no one is ever
the reason someone makes a choice
choices are made of free will
or they aren't choices at all
good or bad
tick tock
tick tock
tick tock
can you feel it
tick tock
tick tock
tick tock
it's the minutes of life
left behind
in a cloud of never was
tick tock
the clock chimes
but no one counts
the days move at will
forward, backward
days stand still
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 6:08 PM UTC
The **** drops deep as does my plant.
I never love, 'cause to love is the girlfriend of scant.
Beyond the walls of drums, life is defined.
I think of happiness when I'm in a Berlin state of mind.
Hope the ant got some rant.
My scant don't like no ***** grant.
Run up to the aunt and get the cant.
In a Berlin state of mind.
What more could you ask for? The cool ****
You complain about the cold.
I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the screed.
I'm rappin' to the head,
And I'm gonna move your bed.
Smooth, beautiful, super, like a seed
Boy, I tell you, I thought you were a screed.
I can't take the the cold, can't take the love.
I woulda tried to sleep I guess I got no glove.
I'm rappin' to the bed,
And I'm gonna move your head.
Yea, yaz, in a Berlin state of mind.
When I was young my girlfriend had a lead.
I waz kicked out without no screed.
I never thought I'd see that speed.
Ain't a soul alive that could take my girlfriend's breed.
A slippery teddy bear is quite the everywhere.
Thinking of happiness. Yaz, thinking of happiness (happiness).
Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 3:22 PM UTC
Give it all you got
Only option left to choose
Tip your cap
Turn your back
Throw up that deuce
But, who woulda knew
That clarity of concentration
Comes from unexpected deviations
From our anticipations
Suddenly
Shipwrecked
Lost at sea
Starin at that deep blue green
Like, it's just you,
And me
And we are the masters behind these sails
When our stories told
It'll be the stuff of fairy tales
The true master misses miserably alot
What matters most is
We take all our shots
So this is my position
Listen up
I don't give a ****
About you *****
Who don't give a ****
You on the sidelines of the game
What's it gonna take for you to lace em
And step it up?
I see you suckers pacin'
Over self-made situations
Like destiny isn't something we participate in
But what if we switch stations
Movin' makin'
Anxious Amplification
Got that body breakin'
Beats to shuffle strutin' feet and
Our music's the motivation
Our life, our part
Art over every evocation
Trumpets triumphantly proclaim the pontification
Sifting, shifting the breeze
The time, they are a' changin'
The rhythms's exquisite equations
Derivative of internal escavated wisdoms
Whimsical inquisitive exploration
Sep 16, 2012
Sep 16, 2012 at 6:58 AM UTC
Oh my word, I remember
every little part of that weekend,
right down to the three-piece outfit
I had purchased at Bloomingdale's
the evening previous.
You know, ya hear stories
left and right about people
winning tickets to this n' that,
but ya never imagine actually
being the nineteenth caller!
When I revealed the occasion
this baby blue ensemble would
be worn in, the cute little saleslady
paused, looked up, and said,
"Why bother seeing him anymore?"
And I tell ya, there's plenty
other, less Christian yearly
Graceland attendants who woulda
flipped their lids had they heard
such malarkey!
Still, I just couldn't deny it.
She had a bit of a point.
This was mid-70s Elvis,
mid-50s Elvis' drunk uncle.
He had gone from Rolling Stone
to National Enquirer in nothing
flat, it seemed.
So all I could muster was
an understanding smile, because
she couldn't help but join the
bandwagon, especially when his
gut got larger and the rumors
became more outrageous.
Still, their loss!
I say that to this day,
because what Little Miss Shopgirl
and the legions of non-believers
did not think to consider
was the charm in "has been" Elvis.
A week before this legendary
concert experience, I had been
forced by circumstance to purchase
my very first pair of bifocals!
It was also around the time,
I'm sure, Harry left me.
So, the main event, I'm there,
third row from the main stage,
seeing Elvis for the first time
since our crazed youthful years-
a bedazzled jumpsuit walks on stage,
and I'm on my feet before I know it!
There was a little less swivel in his
hips. He looked a little tired, too,
all those years of singing do that.
How did it feel, then, to see the King
make his way across a cheap fog
machine, mutton chops and
love handles galore?
It felt like two lifelong friends
growing old, losing all those
frivolous people together-
"Are You Lonesome Tonight"
was still asked with the same
dreamy passion in 1973.
I've still got the handkerchief
he threw to me that night,
**** near lost it when I
caught the thing.
It's blue with polka dots,
ya wanna take a gander?
Sep 28, 2010
Sep 28, 2010 at 5:21 AM UTC
Adolf n his nice tight ***
gonna get me a pair o' lederhosen
the kind adolf used to wear;
not the attire the missus woulda chosen
they're sorta ***** - to be fair,
but they made his ***** look massive
n they made his *** look taut
we all know the guy weren't passive
n did things he shouldn'ta ought,
I bet ya missus ****** loved him
when his **** hung out one side,
and as for bombin london,
well -- we'll let that ****** slide;
coz the guy he sure were stylish
in his liddle leather shorts,
goose steppin all the while-ish
with his gusset - and - supports,,,
alan nettleton.
Jul 15, 2010
Jul 15, 2010 at 11:05 AM UTC
You'll always be my favorite kind of film. The sitcom without the laugh tracks or a romance without the actors. The kind of irony that could make me laugh till it hurt. The way I went from pining for you to vivisecting you against the metal of a surgical table, because maybe if I cracked open that soft, stupid flesh I'd finally be able to understand why. How you unspool me, all these years between us but you're still the only boy that's ever made me cry without hitting me first. Mum says she liked me better before I got off the pills. Honestly, I only cut them up once they're dead mother, we all have our hobbies. I used to rewrite scene after scene of the woulda-coulda-shoulda's of our script and hide them from you. I used to be a lot of things. Don't we all miss me on pills.
Mar 22, 2019
Mar 22, 2019 at 7:04 AM UTC
When your nothing to nobody and you just want to be something to somebody
I wanna be like
Life ain't fair
But you see that ain't rare
And my girl Ana said it like this...
"How they suppose to like what they see
If you ain't in their line of sight..."
I know she right
I'm a loner
That hate being alone
Work with beautiful women
But I'm always professional
Even when my thoughts start to become
Not Safe For Work
I just sang and do my thang.
Because the R&B; purifies me
& "Nothing Was The Same" tracks amplify me
So that the only time I hear my name in anyone's mouth
Is out of praise
Because I'm trying to be the best at what I do
I be thinking though
What these girls think of the kid
Quiet, but he really love to sing
Tap you on your shoulder cause he don't know your name
But he always smile after a question
Because he's genuine
Hello miss,
How are you this afternoon?
Well uh,
you look stunning
I just thought I should let you know
Because your smile has made my day
and now I hope you have a great evening too
****
Déjà Vu
But who woulda knew?
The kid is too cautious to jump into anything new
So he stays focused on what he came to do
Come to work and have fun
Wasn't that the agenda boo?
A few words from a good one.
Ana
Beautiful soul,
And I met her on the last day of high school
The girl deserves the best.
Because her mind right,
Her smile warming
And intelligence is ****
And she can vibe with me and my music and poetry.
I'm so lucky to have this person as a friend
I guess I should really try to keep in touch with her more.
And that's real!
Take notice:
this went from talking about something I want,
to showing appreciation to my friend.
Even though I shouldn't, I always put them first,
they are my family
Honestly,
the people in my life are the best
and I am forever grateful for them
~
This was a little something for a friend.
Thanks for the inspiration.
As always sweetheart
shine bright
and know that if you need a shoulder to lean upon
I'll be right there behind you
just give me the word.
okay?
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 1:06 PM UTC
Drunk, ****** up
Stumbling through the house
Giggling now, trying to find the light
I'm sorry we woke you up
Woulda been passed out all night
And I know you never sleep
You can't, I know, trust me
And I'm always bringing my girls over
**** you've even got a collection
Of bobby pins
And I broke your downstem
And I'm always passing out in your bathroom
"God ****** Calli, what am I gonna do with you?"
Always smokin your hash, taking dabs
You let me do it, because you know what we have.
You don't treat them like you treat me
I'm invincible
I can kiss you and hit you and pull you and push you
Laugh and crash and cry and trash
So shut up, you know what's up
Because in the sheets and against the wall
I'm a bonfire, she's just a match
The way I heat you up makes up for all the crap
When you're saying something sick and I'm so enthralled
The way I nod my head because I get what you said
And I care and I want to hear more
It's different and we get it
Why won't you just admit it?
Haha, nevermind
That look says it all
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 7:02 AM UTC
here we sit in the moonlight
Pondering our last fight
Why is pain so hard
My heart needs a bodyguard
Your words hit home
As you ran away to Rome
It was over in seconds
To you my heart beckons
I thought it was all over
‘till she made me play red rover
I was up for repossession
Then I fought them with discretion
Everything started to go
I will never forget you though
She started the healing
Love I begun feeling
Is it wrong to feel love again
Your heart I must obtain
We sit here in the moonlight
Knowing we wont fight
She made me so happy
An Irishman woulda been ‘well done laddy’
So I thank you for the pain
The sky cleared up after the rain
As if it was telling me
Letting you go was the greatest thing
Aug 16, 2010
Aug 16, 2010 at 10:48 AM UTC
It's 11:11 make a wish
Look out the spotty window
See all the frowns
And boring towns
See how powerful the words we use are
They can cut deep
Deeper than the most violent assault
Buildings and obelisks of befuddlement
Pressed for time
Lemon scented tiles
Scrubbed
No mold
Personal preference
Common courtesy
And common sense
Scarce but invaluable
A face only a mother could love
And a father can lie to
Coulda
Woulda
Shoulda
Didn't
Searching for carrion
Give way
To the wayside
ECNALUBMA
In the rear view
The worms eat us
The early birds catch the worms
The cat nabs the worm
After being resurrected by satisfaction
And the night owl writes the tell-all
Put the ear to glass
Put the glass to the door
And listen closely
To sound of knuckles cracking
And the chattering of coffee shop patrons
Indian givers going back on their word
Fingerless gloves
Prim and proper
Promptly pummeling
Tunneling to tomorrow
Well done
Slim to none
Fat chance
The local native's tongue
Sold fresh and farm raised
On any given day
You can find demi-gods
Playing a a pick up game
Matchbook
Matchbox
Mismatch socks
Pick up sticks and stretchmarks
Just stay the night
So we can wish this all away together
It's 11:12 open your eyes
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 1:22 PM UTC
Trembling hands
Hands all over you
Your skin I know so well
So well like our love
Deep and endless
Endless is what we thought
Thoughts are turning into reality
The reality of you
And me
Working through my disease
My disease we worked through four years
Why not make it forty more
Forty more ounces
Until I forget my mistakes
My mistakes landed me here
Here in my bed alone
Alone
Alone at night
When I coulda shoulda stayed
I should have stayed in the house
The house you bought for us
For our woulda been family
Family means our furbaby
Family is ohana
You never left me
I never wanted to leave.
I just always thought it was better
You without me.
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 11:55 PM UTC
.
these are things that make me Sad:..
imagining how sad that Powder must be...
...after Labor day.
imagining how sad rabecca Black must be...
...on Wednesday.
imagining how sad quasiModo would be...
...in Gattaca.
imagining how sad rosie oDonnel would be...
...in Ethiopia.
imagining how sad benjamin Button woulda been..
...in Neverland.
imagining how sad sleeping Beauty would be...
...finally waking Up........n seeing meDusa.
imagining how scared free ***** must be...
...of sunshine aQuarium.
imagining how scared jimmy Neutron would be...
...in sleepy Hollow.
imagining how scared that Pingping musta been...
...of Sultan.
imagining how scared that Avatars woulda been...
...of ******
imagining how scared that Petrified wood would be...
...of paul Bunyan. (Dumb xD)
imagining how scared
six jodie Fosters would be
in a Panic room with seven Hannibals.
imaging how bad trig Palin would be...
...at Trigonometry. (too Much..)
imagining how bad epiLeptic children are...
...at Laser tag.
imagining how bad steven Hawking would be...
...at Roller derby.
imagining how bad that Rainman woulda been...
...at Rain dancing.
imaginging how bad helen Keller woulda been...
...at Karaoke.
imagining how bad desiree Jennings musta been...
...at Hopscotch.
imaginging how effortlessly,
robin willams was Acting...
...in will Hunting.
too Soon?...
...Oh........Sorry.
"Thats okay...
...its not your Fault."
Thanks babe.
.
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 7:44 PM UTC