invitations…

I am sliding phrases

built along drifting analogies of suffering sophomoric-

 

I am as complicated as your breaths,

And as easy as the girls my friends all lay-

 

I am decisions to be made,

times to adhere to,

and things to be respected-

 

But I am juvenile,

and your hand tastes better than any dish you ever plated-

 

So forgive this era of ours

and the leaders my head elects-

 

They make beautiful platforms,

full of promises as they are rot-

 

I wanted to take you along,

but this ribcage said it only held space for one-

 

And he doesn’t even like me that much…

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