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Literature Text
Babe I know this ain't going to be poetic or nothing,
But y'know I just have a need to express my feelings:
*Excessive throat clearing*
Roses be red and them violets be blue,
I'm the only Asian kid in the ghetto;
What's up wit chu?
You lookin' at me like, damn you're fine!
Babe you know you blow my mind.
I may not be tall,
But my height is just right.
I'mma sleep on yo chest,
When you get cold at night.
And if yo boyfriend is big,
Then I'mma run right now.
Cause, I don't wanna look like my face is DOG CHOW,
yanawhatImean?
So uh, I'm losin' my train of thought,
I think this is all I got.
Babe I think you're hot,
Gimme yo number, uh, before you get shot.
Please?
But y'know I just have a need to express my feelings:
*Excessive throat clearing*
Roses be red and them violets be blue,
I'm the only Asian kid in the ghetto;
What's up wit chu?
You lookin' at me like, damn you're fine!
Babe you know you blow my mind.
I may not be tall,
But my height is just right.
I'mma sleep on yo chest,
When you get cold at night.
And if yo boyfriend is big,
Then I'mma run right now.
Cause, I don't wanna look like my face is DOG CHOW,
yanawhatImean?
So uh, I'm losin' my train of thought,
I think this is all I got.
Babe I think you're hot,
Gimme yo number, uh, before you get shot.
Please?
Literature
I can't write poetry for dead girls.
there are too
many pills in this
world and too
much misery in
the human heart
but that didn't mean
that you could just
up and leave when
we both know it
could have gotten better
and i miss you like
a wolf misses her pack
or a goddamn dragon misses
her fire and i'm sorry
that i can't give you
a bouquet of jasmines
(they were your
favorite, after all,
because that was
the only princess
with a pet tiger)
because poppies are
too cliche and i'm
sorry i wasn't there
when all you needed
was a hug and for someone
to whisper "it's okay,
you're perfect enough
for me, don't listen
to that junkie bitch
who just happened to
give birth to you" and did
Literature
or maybe it actually is.
this
is not
a love poem:
this is not about
me and how i hate
the way realism tastes.
this is about you.
this is about how you
are one too many shades arrogant,
how nearly every night you
try to forget that time has
left you behind. this is
about your laugh and the way it
whispers "i can't remember
what i was like before i
became this." and,
if i'm being honest, this is about
how i will never see your too
cocky for your own damn good grin that
makes me go weak in the knees.
this is about you
and how you're not real and how i wish
to god that i wasn't either.
Literature
she can't keep secrets, i can't keep friends
the first time I see her in months,
she still hugs me like i’m the only thing
keeping her world up.
i remember a time when this was true.
we do not talk about anything we used to—
those things have become taboo,
almost while our heads were turned away.
subjects are now landmines, with us tiptoeing around them,
me in my beat up converse and her in her sky-high stilettos.
we do not talk about how she did not say goodbye.
we do not talk about her old-new-old-old-gone boyfriend.
we don’t mention any new holes in my heart
or any new episodes of a now cancelled television show.
we do not talk about the new kid who looks like h
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Just something done for fun x'D I mean I've been doing nothing but serious topics recently, I figure I should throw in some humour ^^
Forgot to link the audio - soundcloud.com/siddhartha-chen…
Have fun laughing :'3
-Chennie
Forgot to link the audio - soundcloud.com/siddhartha-chen…
Have fun laughing :'3
-Chennie
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Comments48
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That's hilarious XD