The things I see, the things I love
You met me when I was serene
Don’t worry, I’ll get hostile and mean
I act like a fucking preteen
I reapply my blush three times a day
Unless I use high-quality setting spray
These girly things
Losing hope of this whole grand thing
Don’t want to be taken under someone’s wing
But would that perhaps solve things
Stubborn and rich, I wish I wish
I want to be such a bitch
But your eyes are cool, green-hazel tone
I think it’s so raw to the bone
You touch the right places & make me moan
That’s it.
Your light eyes, voice so smooth
I’m a green-eyed beauty queen
Legs hit the pavement
Expression bitter & mean
On parchment with parsley
Yellow concrete & thyme
Mysteries of our memories
Apple crisp & moonshine
Witty but only on pages
No intention to rhyme
Going backwards in high speed
I do that all of the time
Take me out of this nest
Take me out of this nest
Where the whiskey is neat
Where the words don’t repeat
Grey skies
grey skies
grey skies
Cute guys
and ambivalence
that stretches for miles
Pretty vulgar, tongue-in-cheek
Summers on horses, by the bay, long hair and strong winds. Setting aside time for family and time for self. Looking onward, shimmery skies. Time to invite the dogs.
Writing that always ends up being romantic, taking your case to trial. Synth sounds, going back to sheer old days. Hot nights, hot hot nights. To put it frankly, you’re pretty vulgar
entered the scene
brightest eyes I’ve seen
jacket draped over my shoulders
cheers to how smooth it’s been
but back then I would wake
as somebody I’m not
How to get out of a slumber
Not something I was taught
So I dug myself deeper
tried to find my bones
Would call random numbers
Strangers would answer the phone
I solidified that on concrete, stone
and drank a half gallon of patron.