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Some of Them


Some of them

They know me by now

Questionably laughing

At the crying clown


Some of them

They like to hit mute

Creating the distance, the very same distance

That makes astute


Yet, some of them share

They hear my shit out

I know who they are

Never letting me pout


For those who like mute

For those who hang up

Pick a finger, any finger

And, stick-it-up your butt!


Me With Dr. Who


I’m not sure what to do

I’m not sure who you are

I don’t know if you’ll dare

I don’t know if you’ll care


Let me share who I am

By saying who I’m not

It’s a double-dare

Like it or not


Myself in the flesh

And all that is red

It’s just me

My personalities


Myself in my head

And all that is blue

Would you terribly mind

If I told you the truth?


Sit, drink, and talk

Is what I would do

The same way

As with Dr. Who



I don’t believe in love

Not anymore

Not like I used to

Like I used to once before


Betrayal between friends

The first you will see

Before you know it

A sociology degree


Love in your twenties

It was rather dear

At least it seemed like it

That profitable year


Love in your thirties

It was somewhat refreshing

Little do you know

So far from a blessing


Here comes love at 40!

Well, 38, to be exact

Here he is; this is the one

The one that never says, “Thanks”


There went love at 41

Faster than a smoking gun

Only three years before it quickly crashed

Other than that, simply trash



It’s not as heavy as it seems

It’s not as simple as it sounds

A frosted cake with whipped cream

Weighs no more than two pounds


It’s not as white as it looked in the book

The whipped cream is what it really took

It’s not as sweet as when you first bake it

A dessert moistened by an oil, hydrogenated


No matter what the time or the weather

Properly baked, always light as a feather

You don’t eat the cake because you’re hungry

It just reminds you of clover honey


He died in here

It makes me fear

Of all the things

That no one hears


He died in here

It makes me think

Of how his life

Began to shrink


He died in here 

In this bedroom

On the floor

Behind a door


He’s been dead

For sixteen years

And all I want

Is to be near


Take me to him

To let him know

That all I want

Is to let go

Waiting for Luis

Here and there is everywhere

A taste of honey for everybody

A bite, a sting in everything

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