"yoko" poems
Gabby Abrego
I'll never let you go go
unless we go to Mexico
and you be come a hobo!
Then I'll go.
and fetch the so co.
so we can dance to disco
eat enchiladas with adobo
pick the **** out of our Afros!
We'll feel so funky,
the people will get spunky
when we arrive on donkeys,
and ride around their towns!
We'll befriend all the junkies
and give them howler monkeys,
it'll be so funny
we'll laugh until you cry!
Ohh! Gabby Abrego I'll never let you go go
unless I get you prego
then I'll run like mad!
cuz if we had a baby
I'd stop being lazy
get as famous as THE LADY
support you like Eminem did for his baby.
So Never Ever leave me
Or I'll succumb to Scientology
and go even more crazy
my world'd become a mystery.
I'd rather be a rhino
rather be tricked into a *****
rather be married to Bono
in a movie starring J.Lo
be forced to live with Yoko Ono
have red eyes like an albino
than to ever be with out
Gabby Abrego!!!
Jul 12, 2010
Jul 12, 2010 at 1:01 AM UTC
John Lennon
Can you imagine the world if he wasn’t shot?
Do you think his believers will finally see
The bullshitting hypocrite behind all that peace?
“All you need is love” sang by a guy
Who went out of his way to be cruel to his wife
Used to ***** about his dad doing the disappearing act
Until he did it himself, the silly ****
“Imagine no possessions”
Bold words from a guy who had a lot of obsessions
“Love is real, real is love”
Says the guy who’d rather have two lovers at once
His best hits was with the Fab Four
His solo hits are like seesaws
Yoko Ono had some hits
By him, behind closed doors she took it
Some people see him as some sort of Jesus
But truth is, he was politically clueless
The egotistical, ignorant little poseur
Who’d rather stay in bed until it’s all over
Did he change the world? Did he ****
Nothing but a demigod, high in everyone’s mind
I’m really glad he died in his prime
Just wished that ****** Bono was next in line
Jan 13, 2021
Jan 13, 2021 at 8:00 PM UTC
Walkin' thru the grocery store section,
To that aisle, yeah, it's not just con-cession...
Turn every crunch into Hea-ven, -yeah
(Oh, you are...)
Crun-chee on the coldest day
Taste buds explode, every, 'kind-of-way'
Make me wanna savor every moment of cheese-y, slow-ly
You pleasure me, my taste, taste buds, you put it on!
Got the taste-y, know how to turn it on...
The way I nibble on a pair, a clutch of fried corn, not an ear...
I take it easy, baby, so we can last long!
Oh! you, you feel crunchy 'in-my-mouth,' salivated,
not full...
Mouth like tasting, like an,
an amazing plan
Feel your taste, my mouth a pulse-Oh!
Oh, yeah -Ya, ya me in store aisle,
so nor-mal
Tostitos and Doritos, I say No Mas!
And so, no chip will, will replace you!
Des Puh -CHEE-TOS!
Please respect, it's just Cheetos,
No, no, I don't want no Doritos!
No matter what you ask it's not Dorit-o-os!
Des Puh -CHEE-TOS!
Nothing taste quite like Cheetos,
No Tostitos, no Doritos, nor a burrito.
I sound Spanish or Latin when I end words in a -oh,
Oh, OH YEAH,
Oh-o...
When I end my words in 'O'
Sounds like I know
Something like, I'm not loco?
Cheetos brands, -favoritos
(Favorito, favorito, ba-by)
Morning I don't like to 'Eat-oh'
Breakfast, eggs or -gritos
Instead I woof, -the Cheetos!
And know I voted, twice for Obam-ma,
Didn't even have, -American Mom-ma!
Car tires, Yoko-hama...
Back to my Latin voice, now, Oh-o...
You say to get that face and taste -eh he bang-bang
You say why doesn't it explodo like me mi bang-bang?
For me those chips you know there is no other
No question, fill your mouth, tongue, smother
Yo no other makes me sing it so suave
Impressive crunchy, disputes 'saliv-eh'
Pass it to, pass it too, suave to cheese oh?
No want your Doritos, doritos, ha doritos
Put that bag back in front, me, I'll destroy ya
Stop being malicious or I'll destroy yah!
Pass it to, pass it too, suave cause it Cheetos,
No want your Doritos, doritos, ha doritos
You want friends you better break out cheesus
There's no other way now to please us!
Oye!
crunch
Des Puh -CHEE-TOS!
When I end my words in 'O'
Sounds like I know
I know...
Something like, I'm not TA-CO?
Cheetos brands, -'favor-AH-ri-tos'
(Favorito, favorito, ba-by)
Morning I don't like to eat no
Breakfast, eggs or -gritos
Instead I woof, -some Cheetos!
Des Puh -CHEE-TOS!
This is how we do it up in Long Island, boroughs,
No tacos, burritos and no churros
all we ever want is those Cheetos!
Ay-o no burrito
Pass it to, pass it too, suave to cheese oh?
No want your Doritos, doritos, ha doritos
Put that bag back in front, me, I'll destroy ya
Stop being malicious or I'll destroy yah!
Pass it to, pass it too, suave cause it Cheetos,
No want your Doritos, doritos, ha doritos
You want friends you better break out cheesus
There's no other way now to please us!
Des Puh -CHEE-TOS!
Des Puh -CHEE-TOS!
Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 9:00 PM UTC
Bob sang about it
Martin dreamed it
John and yoko did too
Jo spoke out
As Europeans we were close
One world one love
Leaders unite
Listen to our past
Make peace top of the pack
Lets not go back
Evolve for unity
Let's get together and be that all inclusive
one world
One love
Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 1:45 PM UTC
What exactly would you get
if writers changed the things they wrote
If painters changed their style
And singers butchered every note
Romance books by Stephen King
Horrors told by Suess
Comedic plays by E.A. Poe
And **** by Mother Goose
Dali paints like Monet
Monet paints like Degas
Van gogh would hang his brushes up
And go and detail cars
Michael Buble singing screamo
Operatic stuff by ****
Yoko Ono would seem right in tune
It's enough to make one sick
I hope it never happens
It would change things quite a lot
But you know, I think that **** by
Mother Goose could be quite hot!
Sep 6, 2012
Sep 6, 2012 at 4:02 PM UTC
Karen Carpenter, bridged sued cap d'hiver,
(which I hear will be very en vogue this summer)
fringe falling, as gracefully as music flowing through her veins,
(a Pucci jumpsuit, a throwback to times, of rock and roll)
Pinned hair, taped face to secure a wig cap,
(a daily communion bonding her soul to her self)
those Miu Mui boots, leather wrapped sewn to her body
(to which is laying amid candle light gypsy retreat)
A left thigh, glance of the subtly disguised tattoos inscribing her body,
(do we mark our body, to impress others or to claim our own bodies)
silk Chloé gown, gypsy princess of Parisian quarters,
(Jakarta may someday be a resting place for an unsettled soul)
Placing pencil to paper, poetry writes me as lyrics write her,
(do the ivory keys of the Grand Piano fuse inspiration)
piercing red nails, grasping left handed she writes writes writes,
(maybe notes of her future travels dreams aspirations)
A 70's heroine, born to the wrong era standing in the past,
(Yoko Ono Led Zep Stevie Nicks, mahatma's of a lost scene)
innocence purity porcelain ******* torn from a womb too soon,
(not at once a smile, reflective nostalgia unwavering past future)
A fallen tear drop, a hopelessness of peace in her eyes,
(one can see both tattoos of present; ARTPOP, of past; peace symbol)
a fallen angel, legacy leaving her mark on a generation of those lost,
Her left wrist shows a peace sign as a commitment to such peace
Will this ever be a possibility on a planet we call earth?
© Sia Jane
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 12:48 PM UTC
A little advice from when I gave a ****
You never fail,
Nomad,
to be disappointed by your Domino Lovers.
First,
your persian,
the big one,
the first love,
the true love.
Second,
your *********
the responsibility
the mistake,
the theif.
Third,
Your yoko,
me.
the sweet one,
the **** up.
Last,
your Lioness,
your destroyer,
the final cut,
the Karma.
She delivered the crippling blow.
But no worries,
Nomad.
I'll patch you up,
friend.
I'll match you up,
friend.
I'm not yours,
anymore.
And you're not mine.
Float free,
friend,
cut the strings,
friend,
forget the lovers,
friend.
Stop the Dominoes
from falling
one
after
the
other.
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 9:22 AM UTC
The other night I snuck into the Grammys
It really wasn't that hard you see
I was dressed as the Daft Punk dude on the left
My own mother wouldn't have recognize me
I was on the elevator at the Ritz-Carlton
When one of those robots stepped in by himself
So I knocked him out then tied him up
And left him bundled up in the stair well
I put on the suit and the helmet
It's not hard to fake a french accent in those
The only problem I encountered that evening
Was the strong desire to scratch my nose
You know I was the life of the party
Mingling with all of the stars
For awhile I sat in the row with Shawn and Yoko
Still don't know which ones from Venus and which ones from Mars
I'm sure in the circles that those two hang with
They are as normal as all of the rest
Of course most of the rockers I met that night
Put normality to the test
I was a little nervous about preforming
But I just put my boogie shoes on
The only one there who would notice my radical rhythm
Was Stevie and he couldn't see what was going on
When we went up to accept our award
I waved and mumbled under my breath
I must of made it sound mighty profound
As the crowd all clapped and nodded their heads
I really had the best of times that night
Partying like it was 1999
Prince wasn't there but who really cares
When your behind Beyonce in the Mambo line
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 7:37 AM UTC
I found myself in a record shop
Which got me all to wondering
How these bands all got their names
And wouldn't it be summon
If I went through all the racks
And pulled them randomly
What it is that I would find
To solve this mystery
When this idea hit me
I was standing before the M's
So based upon that simple fact
Is where this journey begins
Mega Death-You must be kidding!
Are theses guys for real?
How big a death do you have to die
Before your still road ****
I decided to jump around
To get the full effect
Can not help but wonder
At what will pop up next
Oh, lookie here...Butt Hole Suffers
I bet their momma's proud
When those guys hang ten
Are they surfing in or surfing out
I came across Badfinger
In an old 70's record bin
I'm telling you the honest truth
I don't care to know where that fingers been
Over yonder a band called The, The
The, The...What?!
Then there's Chumbawamba
Chumbawamba...Whoba?!
This may all sound a bit far fetched
But it's the honest to goodness truthba!
The H's are holding Hoobastank
The closest I can figure
Is that the guys in this band
Hang out with Badfinger
Albino Toilet Boys
Cottage Cheese From The Lips Of Death
My Dog Has Hitlers Brains
Norman Bates And The Shower Heads
Poultry In Motion
Brady Bunch Lawn Mower Massacre
**Roid Rodgers And The Whirling **** Cherries**
Are today's record shop de jour
As I'm leaving out the door
Arms piled high with newly purchased song
I grab the last copy of **Yoko ****
For soothing dinner music later on
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 8:29 AM UTC
Meeting in the canteen at lunchtime
Laughing at our immature jokes
The girls in room five
They know how to jive
You know they were the most unusual folks
Lord you know we were lucky
You know blessed we were
The way we were happy
Oh sweetest Lucia
Went to college in different cities
Mind disorders ate me alive
Lucy P called to say
I hope you're okay
You look like you forgot how to jive
Lord you know we were lucky
You know blessed we were
The way we were happy
Oh sweetest Lucia
Got the train to Kent to see Lucy
Lady enrolled in the arts
If we weren't friends
I'd go round the bend
Jealous of her marvellous smarts
Lord you know we are lucky
You know blessed we are
The way we are happy
Oh sweetest Lucia
Grown up now we rare see each other
Buried in our separate lives
But when we meet up
We swig from the cup
Yeah soon we remember to jive
Lord you know we are lucky
You know how blessed we are
The way we are happy
Oh sweetest Lucia
When we are old we'll be married
Maybe having tea in the day
Those girls from room five
Who knew how to jive
Yeah I think they really turned out okay
Lord you know we are lucky
You know how blessed we are
The way we are happy
Oh sweetest Lucia
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 10:10 PM UTC
by yoko molotov and scott sharp
hey.
it would mean a lot to me if you came out tonight, i miss you.
I feel ****** that we havent had a lot of time together.
that our lives have grown so far in other realms
maybe its time we drink and sing and
shout for the good times the
old times and of course
the new times my
dearest pal and
best droog-
yours.
cb
B
I might
This week
Has been a spell
Of stress and masochism
My **** hurts. And my brain.
Karaoke is a great relief in many ways
However, it’s often too loud and crowded
For hangs and ketchup. The backdoor is more seductive
Lets meet at the table outside with wings, beer, and jolly bellies
Lets tell war stories. Lets milk the clock. Lets party like it’s 2003. Let’s puke.
Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 12:32 PM UTC
When you went out on me, you forgot your things.
I left them for days, hoping you would return,
To take them away,
But on the 100th hour I found a box and decided to pack for you.
I started with the ashes of a poster you made me. Drug tights that I found in your car that weren’t mine and your phone, vibrating from the sext messages. In went ash tray, over used bottles and unused condoms. I found the rope that was always knotted closer to my end. Cut my finger on the broken mirror of insecurity you placed in front of me when talking to your other girlfriends. I tossed in the mask you loved wearing. Buckets of ***** Your socks. Empty cans of courage. Clocks full of hours I wasted when waiting for your replies. A glass full of gasoline tears. I had to throw in the skin you clawed off my back. ***** sheets. Cigarette ends. Sifted through piles of poems describing a woman that wasn’t me, and found my love letters you tossed aside. Towards the bottom I found ticket stubs, and the pick-up lines that never failed you.
But underneath the dirt I found this:
Pebbles from the playground with the tallest slide. Sand from San Diego. Mental pictures I took of you while you lay next to me. Your cologne and your Fleet Foxes shirt. The Lennon and Yoko vinyl we danced to for the first time. Memories of you asking to distract me. Memories of waking up next to you the first night I stayed over. Interpol. Pictures of you looking me in the eyes, convincing me that you loved me. A scribbled drawing of a beast and you holding hands. The wicker chair from the back porch. Bukowski’s War All the Time from that hot summer day. Splinter Cell. I felt you kissing down my spine, and then back up. I found images of us laughing.
I'm keeping the good things, but I can no longer bear this box of burdens on my own, and it is not fair to send your way either. I’ll do us both a favor. I’ll light a match and let the mother ****** burn.
Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 3:59 PM UTC
Another winter and it is as cold as Jack frost ever did Bring
With an icy Bling
Jack laughed and he sang
A winter cold with signature ice-cycles as his calling card...
After the Joy of Christmas had come and it had gone..
The aftermath of such lie in the trash waiting to be hauled from your frosty back yard.
Three to four grooling months his vengeance is well played.
Until you plan and prepare through the warmer seasons
Until you can hit him in the cold spot
In warmth as you are the one who can now shout and to him, taunt.
Jack,frost, Jack Frost, He is our cold dead hand.
If he cannot get me I've broken his seasonal song and broke up his band.
Good ole' yoko uno was not a factor, here, to break up your band.
Jack, my friend, here's to my warmed environment
To you with the eager eyes sitting out in your cold
I hope your icy fingers break off on the **** you once chilled
as I broke your game and watched as IT WAS YOU who STILL LOSE and Grow COLDER!
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 10:36 PM UTC
Yoko Ono is a *****
who sings just like a seagull.
I'd like to push her off a cliff
cause she destroyed the Beatles.
Yoko Ono's face looks like
she just ****** on a lemon.
Lennon thought that she was fine
but I think she's a demon.
Yoko Ono's art is crap.
She's really not that good.
She thinks that Chapman might **** her.
I wish that ***** would.
Yoko Ono seems to think
the public just adores her.
We see through her, we know the truth.
We actually abhor her.
Yoko Ono lives alone.
Her husband met a gun.
She sold his ****** glasses
and she got a hefty sum.
Yoko Ono has no heart
and that's the bottom line.
If I saw her burn in hell,
well that would suit me fine.
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 1:20 PM UTC
like Syd and Nancy
like Paul and Linda
like Kurt and Courtney
like John and Yoko
like Elvis and Priscilla
I want us to be reckless
I want us to be free
I want us to not to be afraid of what's coming
I want us to be just us
but I know it's not going to happen
Why should they care?
why should they say?
denial
go on
I know what you're thinking
and it's okay
irrational
nonsense
everything
you're just being bent
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 11:17 PM UTC
A pressed Cuban
& potato salad,
unsweetened ice tea
& the ballad of John & Yoko
on the radio.
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 1:17 PM UTC
we were cut from the same fabric,
he whispers into the morning
and my agreement echoes in the seamless stitching of our bodies
too bad John and Yoko already took that photo,
i whisper back
Apr 13, 2011
Apr 13, 2011 at 11:55 PM UTC
Yoko wrote it, once.
Lennon was off the ground
Reading it.
It's the minimalist's grail.
My pen can dry out.
I've found a tranquility
Like the last seat on the bus home.
It can't be copyrighted.
One word, not one's word,
Isn't plagiarism.
Can it be mine, please,
Just this one time.
It has internal rhyme,
And the end rhyme draws out
To an external rhyme,
The universal poem.
Put it on the curriculum
And school kids will memorize it,
Gladly, gleefully.
My One Word Poem:
Yes
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 10:11 PM UTC
The longest marriage ended on day 33,227
that's 91 years and 12 days in "Heaven"
But I think we could last longer
but love is a twisted story so I might have never been wronger
like Mary Shelly if I die silk wrap my heart
because we're like art
How come every great romance ends in tragedy?
like Romeo & Juliet I'll wait beneath your balcony
like Augustus & Hazel
I'll love you even as an angel
because love is fatal
like John & Yoko
I'll smile in every photo
like Kurt & Courtney
I'll sing for thee
like me & you
we're always down and blue
but you keep my skin white
not red
just because we wake up in the same bed
even if we're not wed
I don't care
but you can bet your *** people will stare
when I prove I'm still there
on day 33,228 gasping for air.
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 4:05 AM UTC
I always try to sing like Lennon,
He's my musical hero from the start!
Strum strawberry fields forever,
I sing my words by the heart.
held my guitar high, I'm a fan,
accompanied me through times,
through thick and thin,
Thinking I am him, feels very fine.
Helped me a lot, Making him my Idol,
He's loving heart to his dearest Yoko,
So deep and clear,
made me realized how to love a girl so tender.
But where is Yoko my dearest,
Yes have I found her?
I say, Half yes and half no,
for she just left me nowhere.
I've treated this girl
as my very own Yoko,
yet, she never gave back efforts,
she just not want to dive into
that so called deep relationship,
oh I am in love for the first time,
I'm so wounded,
This could be also the last time.
How could I be so Lennon,
If my Yoko is so very far,
I wanted to give her everything,
yet it turned out sour.
I'm still hoping for my Yoko,
I hope she would re-consider and think.
I love her much,
Yet she's gone by the blink.
I can't imagine life
without her by my side,
Woman, I'm so still in to you
*This love, I could never hide. *
Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 3:59 PM UTC
I still recall the small, delicate, boy
on the ferry to Ellis Island,
With the large dove grey eyes
I'd never seen eyes so deep.
A girl will love you for those, someday
I told him telepathically.
Up top, where the wind blew,
The steel sky greeted us, in cool Manhattan fashion.
I watched a couple lean on the lattice railing.
They reminded me of John and Yoko.
He looked like a boy--giddy with finding
a beautiful thing in his hands,
but unsure of how to handle it.
She had him gently wrapped around her finger,
tightening the knot with every smile.
I studied two old Orthodox Jews
beards streaked with fading black, faces wrinkled,
framed by the two thick curls
and staunch black hats.
I wondered what they thought of us,
teens in our jeans, disheveled from travel,
Or if they saw us at all.
I wonder if any remember me
the way I remember them.
Probably not.
No one takes notice
of the skinny red-head in the corner.
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 9:28 PM UTC
I want to THANK YOU!
Thank You
I truly do
I would not be here without my you
Living and learning to love as we go
I am your John
You my Yoko
Without love
Lost and wondering
Just to lonely souls
We are better together so the story goes
When things get crazy
I promise to never let you go
I will follow you down
Wherever you may go
We’re chasing everlasting love with its magical glow....................
Never again will my heart be alone
Aug 6, 2023
Aug 6, 2023 at 2:09 PM UTC
Well It Seems That These Days...
That FAKES And SNAKES...
Are ALL OVER THE PLACE... !?!
From Those With Names...
Now Claiming... FAME...
To Those Who Partake...
In The Political Frame...
Where What They DISPLAY...
Are Political Games...
That Are A DISGRACE...
And Have NO SHAME... !!!
In... Displaying Ways...
That Are INHUMANE... !!!
FAKING And TAKING...
In Ways That Be SHAKING...
People Til’ They’re QUAKING...
In MORE Than Their Boots... !!!
Now CORONA Has PUSHED...
Folks Into Their Rooms... !!!
ISOLATED And Confused...
By This Corona Flu... !!!
And Of Course The FAKE News...
That’s Now Claimed To Be TRUE... ?!?
I Need To CHECK That Line...
Cos’ That Doesn’t Seem Right...
Cos If The News Is FAKE... ?
It’s CLEARLY Run By SNAKES...
And The Types Who LIE...
EVERY DAY of Their Life... !!!
One Has To Wonder WHY... ?!?
Well These CORPORATE Guys...
Women AND Their Wives...
Are Now CLEARLY Displaying...
A Wish To Be MAKING...
Instead of Now Paying...
Money To Their PATRONS...
Or Those At Work Stations...
Because MOST Are Now VACANT... !!!
ESPECIALLY Those In Tourist Destinations...
That Have Now Been SHAKEN... !!!
Just Like A... Bond Bar Scene...
On RECURRING Rotation... !!!
Where He’s Dealing With SNAKES...
of The... HUMAN Shape...
Whilst HE’s Being FAKE... !?!
I Mean For HEAVENS SAKE... !?!
I Guess The *** STIRS...
When These Fakes CONFER... ?
To Leave The Masses HURT...
Because of Lies They Work...
To Feed Chicken Like **** !!!
With The Type of Spice...
That Now HOTS Up Lives... !!!!!
Like The REALITY Rhymes...
I Now... Sit And Write...
That Define What’s TRUE...
NOT... Falsified Views... !!!!!
Now Filling Newsrooms...
And Of Course Bedrooms...
Where These Alphabet Crews...
Have DOCTORED The Truth...
For Their Partners... WHO...
CLEARLY Had NO CLUE...
Who They Were Making Love To... ?!?
Because These Shape Shifters...
Deceived Them Like GRIFTERS...
Or Snakes That SLITHER...
And Leave The Truth LITTERED... !!!
With POISONOUS VENOM... !!!
WITHOUT Yoko Or Lennon...
To Imagine Or See...
Through Their FALLACIES... !!!
It’s Now A TRAGEDY...
... Full of CALAMITIES... !!!
WITHOUT Doris Day... !!!
Cos’ Now... Humanity...
Has FAR TOO MANY...
Who Behave In Ways...
That SHAME And DISPLACE...
TRULY Being... HUMANE...
It REALLY Is A SHAME... !!!
To See People Behave...
Like They’ve Got NO BRAIN...
In This Modern Age...
of The... NEW AGE SLAVE... !!!
Which Is Why I Now RELATE...
This Last FACTUAL CLAIM... !!!
That You Should STAY AWAY...
From Most People These Days...
Because Nowadays...
It’s CLEARLY Fair To Say...
That Most Now Choose To Behave...
And Sway Like Those Named...
As.......
... “ FAKES And SNAKES “... !!!
Dec 19, 2020
Dec 19, 2020 at 9:29 PM UTC
There I was in my almost clinical white coat
Looking like Yoko Ono, oh no, didn't realise it at all.
Strolling all around the front square,
You in that tan coat stood there,
Looking like something out of Harry Potter, I presume.
I'd clocked you at the protest a year before,
And you fell for me that first day,
Early September, leaves not yet falling
Me eating an apple a day.
It was the last fruit of summer,
I was still in love with someone else
And as summer became autumn, and is now becoming winter,
I honest to god can't tell.
I can't help myself.
I can't help myself.
You in our second meeting- but the first 'meeting'-
Acting like my very existence was bad for your health,
All this merging and converging like its two countries joining together,
I knew that you liked me, in ways you've liked me forever.
But I wanted to make him come back to me, wished on a spirit
To take him back to me, wished for the truth and- what did I see?
The last fruit of summer, an apple tree.
I was so nervous, I bit my lip so hard it bled,
I come from the Hughes', I lie then, instead.
Your red filaments, burning, yearning, twisting, turning,
Kissing me and hugging me like you've never wanted to hold onto a thing so tight.
I feel like a wild horse penned in, flying by night.
Because I know that you're mad about me
Honest to god I wish I was too,
But I don't understand what stops me from letting go and loving you.
It was the last fruit of summer,
The final kiss from the earth,
I wore all black, you in florals
Me not knowing my worth.
I want to take it slow, and you agree,
You'd agree to anything I want because it's me.
You and your artistic set, fashion-obsessed,
Everything I could ever want, everything you could ever spend.
But nothing that I really do want, in the end.
And I ask for the truth, to the apple tree,
I tell them- oh god- is this ruining me?
I cut it and eat it piece by little piece,
'I can't help you, darling, so just sit back and eat.'
Oct 27, 2019
Oct 27, 2019 at 6:45 AM UTC