(no subject)
hello lovers. want to see what boredom makes?
I wrote him a poem but it sounded stupid, like something an experimental middle schooler would come up with: "What rhymes with cuddly?" try "barf storm." Besides, all my "love" poems start out with mewing kittens and pink chalky valentine hearts reading "desperate" but transform halfway through into some kind of gothic swamp where the popping of each mud bubble squelches out "misery", "failure" or, my personal favorite, "bleh".
Bleh is perhaps the most appropriate word to describe my life right now. Bleh: the involuntary sound that slops out of your mouth when you catch me watching you. Bleh: one circle and two lines away from being bleak, as in my chances with you. Bleh: blushing lass erupts [in] hives (a spontaneous reaction to my stress levels peaking at the awkward tension between us).
Despite all this I find myself constructing a poem anyway, the humiliation-pusher Cupid prodding at my love-handles with a heart-tipped arrow.
the locks of your hair keep safe my heart,
trembling, but yours, to tear apart
and if leaving is what you choose to do
remember the trampled mess I gave to you.
Nothing says "girlfriend material" quite like a scary poem. If you circle every seventh letter the secret message, "I am a psychopath" is revealed and everybody knows that the quickest way to a man's heart is with a clever (and cautionary) word puzzle. Let's try again shall we?
my thighs are strong, my pants are loose
so why not straddle my caboose?
just pop me one sweet sugar cube
and I'll buck and bray the whole night through.
Wonderful. A bestiality motif is the perfect way to seduce a meritable bachelor. That is if his name is Brad and he happens to be sporting a "Female Body Inspector" shirt. I guess third time's the charm.
despite a world so full of strife
I dreamt I led a happy life
with joyful moments far from few
because I shared this life with you.
note: this is not autobiographical in any way. I am as happy and perky as two caffeine shots straight to the bloodstream. also, the ending is abrupt and crappy because boredom comes and goes with no warning and I didn't feel like fixing it.
I wrote him a poem but it sounded stupid, like something an experimental middle schooler would come up with: "What rhymes with cuddly?" try "barf storm." Besides, all my "love" poems start out with mewing kittens and pink chalky valentine hearts reading "desperate" but transform halfway through into some kind of gothic swamp where the popping of each mud bubble squelches out "misery", "failure" or, my personal favorite, "bleh".
Bleh is perhaps the most appropriate word to describe my life right now. Bleh: the involuntary sound that slops out of your mouth when you catch me watching you. Bleh: one circle and two lines away from being bleak, as in my chances with you. Bleh: blushing lass erupts [in] hives (a spontaneous reaction to my stress levels peaking at the awkward tension between us).
Despite all this I find myself constructing a poem anyway, the humiliation-pusher Cupid prodding at my love-handles with a heart-tipped arrow.
the locks of your hair keep safe my heart,
trembling, but yours, to tear apart
and if leaving is what you choose to do
remember the trampled mess I gave to you.
Nothing says "girlfriend material" quite like a scary poem. If you circle every seventh letter the secret message, "I am a psychopath" is revealed and everybody knows that the quickest way to a man's heart is with a clever (and cautionary) word puzzle. Let's try again shall we?
my thighs are strong, my pants are loose
so why not straddle my caboose?
just pop me one sweet sugar cube
and I'll buck and bray the whole night through.
Wonderful. A bestiality motif is the perfect way to seduce a meritable bachelor. That is if his name is Brad and he happens to be sporting a "Female Body Inspector" shirt. I guess third time's the charm.
despite a world so full of strife
I dreamt I led a happy life
with joyful moments far from few
because I shared this life with you.
note: this is not autobiographical in any way. I am as happy and perky as two caffeine shots straight to the bloodstream. also, the ending is abrupt and crappy because boredom comes and goes with no warning and I didn't feel like fixing it.