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William My First "real" LoveThe moment it fell
Don't let us change, Promise Me!
(before) it seemed
we could make things work
With a stick of Winterfresh gum
and a (well placed) hiya
the feel of your smooth plush
Lined hands sliding against mine made
just to feel your square finger tips
trace in my palm
Those same tips brush past my hips
(work combination locks,
tie shoe laces,
write lyrics) and
run down my spine
drawing me (to you)
the kinetic force
chemistry (mixed your
vanilla skin and my minty breath)
of that life
(Then) we (only) made it work
when we spoke
in full sentences
I became fixated on your lips
with wet creases
folds softer than 5000 count Egyptian
Addicted to the contact
(, where your coffee flavors came from,
how dark each got)
I needed those same lips to dance
with mine (even when we didn't)
(Near the end) We wouldn't (work, and couldn't) talk
your fingers made my skin itc
Sitting in CalculusYour feet are scarred with bites
from spiders. Your legs are bruised
from bumping corners.
You wear brown leather
sandles, khaki shorts, white boxers,
grey t-shirts, and base ball caps.
I twirl my hair
I brush my teeth
I watch you
sit on the edge
of the bed and smoke.
Your hair is brown,
fluffy, short. Your eyes are
dark green and intuitive.
Your palms feel rough/
I crack my knuckles, watch your boxers wrinkle,
taste cologne on your ear
Baby I think I love you
Hunny I really want you
Sweetie I can't live without you
Sweet I can't live with you
I can't live
Paper DollThis girl came up to me and was like you're the girl
with the cool room right? I didn't even know who she was.
Have you been telling people about my cool room?
My father owns 10.5 dentist offices,
orthodontists, white walls, and tooth
My room has 4 TVs, the simple life Dvd's
and Britney on the wall
Hollister size 5
louis vuitton in black, blue, and purple.
Steve madden, Doll House and jimmy choo
I buy 400 dollar cell phones
Mariah Carey ring tones
and Natural beer
I'm a statewide cheerleader
my hair is pigment
I tan daily
I fuck boys to meet more boys
I smoke Marlboro gold
(8 packs a day)
my father bought my way
I'll never work a day in my life
She's such a drama queen. She has to
complain about everything. So what if we are
underage, everyone drinks. We're in college,
you never go to bed, you drink all day, you
don't do your homework. WE ARE HERE
TO HAVE FUN.
My Typical RomanceI
You "party harder" than anyone
I've ever known.
dancing in crowds,
touching whomever you want
(and some you don't).
I am the girl with the car.
swaying by the door,
whispering where to touch me
you only say,
you're too good
you make me feel unworthy
I turn my head
follow cracks in the white wall
you just drink more
Your breath is hot
with labatt blue, my neck covered
in goosebumps, White smoke
beside my coat. Ice cold hand on my stomach.
you rock us back and forth, boats
dancing together, knocking
against each other. You walk
on the top, I'll walk
on the bottom. And I do
always dance on the top
—I'm shorter. Really,
you dance better
I shimmy out of blue cotton
panties, while you fumble
with the lock. kissing behind
doors, schools, and dumpsters. You'd
think your caramel lips would've
gone numb, like toes in December
or legs during math. It's not tiring
yet, skipping class to see you, skipping class
White FemaleI own three lap dogs.
Say Athena, stroke my head,
quickly kiss me
touches fumbling, beer
perspirating, pushing Do Not Disturb
signs off hotel tables.
I should have held it more tightly
my yellow picket sign screaming
Instead perched in glass windows
with mannequins wearing panties
two for a dollar clipped on my wrist
Kissing for cars
Kissing for money
Kissing to get out
I should have tattooed it on my forehead
Instead when we met I'd let you
kiss my cheek and try to get in
I'd play with your zipper
during movies and watch you reach
Only two things matched
We hated cats
loved wind-up toys
Your car deep sinful maraschino red
calling me cherry. Driving top off,
hair flying, brushing against leather.
I should have carved it in
I stay here...Maybe
Every word that quietly slips out of me is cliché.
Every finger that traces across my body causes small
sounds. Looking at you watching your fingers reminds
me of hairspray sticking to follicles, or peanut butter
that insists on nesting in the ridges of your mouth.
why do we insist on touching?
The way you wake up like a bird heading south,
lost but persistent.
the same way that you shave and comb your hair
making me wonder if you read your life from an idiots guide.
You stay here because you love the way I cook.
You stay because leaving reminds you of your mother.
My toenails creep you out, but only when I paint them
with green and orange.
Too bad, I like them painted orange. You need to buy
a new car, salesmen scare you, and you want to wait till it dies.
I stay here because you read to me
I stay here because you read
I stay here because
I stay here
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