Secrets Always Taste Better,

I crave you like carbs.

And all the salts of your body.

My thoughts of her rise to the top,

like fizzy bubbles in my soda pop.

You are on infinite repeat. ❣️🔁❣️

I'll not waste good chapstick,

on bad kisses anymore.

I suck at rhymes but here it is...

I don't know when, but at a later date.

There won't be any more cookies to bake.

No love to make,

No earth to quake,

No hands to shake,

And no lives to take.

When that day comes, I hope to find.

A larger species of Clementine?

Or many more words without a rhyme?

Or climb-ier vines,

Or softer crimes,

Or smellier pines,

With straighter lines.

But until then it's up to you,

To find many more lines that rhyme with blue.

Find prettier views,

Find me lefty-er shoes,

And truer trues that speak just for vous.

Ah! But here I am taking all the

S P A C E,

And haven't left you a chance to grace,

This page with words you want to create.

Careful now it's not a race.

There isn't any first to place,

Only yummier taste,

Only bass-ier bass,

Only ever yourself,

No rules to place.

But before I do,

I realize-es,

I've gone and wrote this on

Electronic devices!

I hope this version

Lives to suffice-es!

Or will it be gone and sacrifices?!

I should have taken other advices!

Been nice-ier nices!

Tried creamier ices!

Tried dating girls with a little more spices!

Redux the Revenge.

It is written in the stars above - that we shall never meet,

any more than lovely moon - will ever meet the beach.

To gaze upon her pale shade - mirrored off the sea,

and have her waves break on the shore - for all eternity.

Eagerly I pray for tides - like the thirsty pray for drink,

to hear the music from the foam - and sea's tranquility.

I feel her pulling on my heart - with all her gravity,

a gentle language that she sends - spoken just for me.

Yet it's written in the stars above - that we shall never meet,

but when I feel her moonlit glow - I'll wait here happily.

I grow tired of my poetry.

It's all that you will know of me.

It really hasn't grown on me,

when I read it in my mind.

It's midnight. At midnight we do midnight type of shit.