I ain’t exactly sure how to memorialize you,It ain’t quite love,‘n it ain’t quite lust.–Not to imply that affection’s a binary juxtaposition But it’s gotta say somethin’ that I ain’t ever touched you,‘n just knowin’ I got a text from you gets me grinnin’ chesire–Ear to fuckin’ ear.–I’d disappear if I could, but only to …
Continue reading “You taste like punk rock and processed foods (bad, but so damn good)”
“Reasons I’m Worthwhile:” A scatter poem. A scatter poem is a handwritten poem that fills the page in any way the author sees fit. They tend to be a maze to read. My handwriting is terrible, sue me. -Stephen
Hey, it’s midnight. Do you know what that means? It means this thing I’ve been working on for the last couple months or so is officially available for you to look at. Amazon: Price $2.99 Tumblr: Free Edition Barnes and Nobel: (Account status in review, in the meantime email me at [email protected] for an .epub …
God, it’s an awful con, isn’t it?Just how long it can seem. used to be a time I’d make fun of someone like me, trapped so far from someone like you, as if I was enlightened, as if I knew better. But I was strong, but I never had to worry, about feeling …
I know,philosophically,that its damn dangerous to put you on an altar,to raise you up as some grand granite ideal,that no flesh, bone, ‘n blood could ever… –but that don’t mean I don’t want to tell your myth,to read the tabs of you tip to tip,and strum you long lost lyrics like Lyrato let my lips …
Ain’t it shit though,when you’re chewin’ thunderstorms like bubble-gum,lightnin’ crackin’ through your teeth,like you crack ice-cubes, trying to sharpen yourself,glean a-bit of the just-a-bit betters. Ain’t it, ain’t it though–Just a bit shit? Ain’t like you asked for this,like you wanted it.Why the fuck, why the hell,why in the god-damn-fucking-hell,do you have to deal with …
Ya know what they say.Friend ‘a mine always quotes it,follows with a shot, and a wink,as he goes off in the hopes of gettin’ off. “All cats are black at night.” I don’t say this next part to be innocent here,I done my fair share of objectifyin’, mind,I ain’t proud, too proud, that is, to …
One time,SWEAR TO GOD ABOVE,heard my dynamite cry before it went. Weren’t a pleasant sound,shook me to the foundation,rippin’ the granite from my soul,burstin’ with somethin’ I ain’t heard since. And when it went,it went like a thunderclap,rippin’ through my brain. Struck me then,maybe ‘splosion’s just a release.Deep to think about I know,but somethin’ poetic …
I’m brim-full of passion,it distills my blood to hundred proof.The skin of my lip is thin,why don’t you bite it ‘til you can taste the bite of it. [It ain’t so bad,I only bite back.]
You got stories in your eyes,‘n I got this marrow deep desire to read ’em. I don’t suppose you’d mind if I moved in close,‘n pressed my lips to yours while you read ’em aloud? I want to taste your life like you do.
