classroom scribbling...

Whipped Cream

as a crisp smooth voice wafts through the air
her luscious lips long for his
to be completely connected to her
creamy succulent skin

her radiant ruddy cheeks
deny her attempts at concealing the truth
her complexion magnified
by the glow of sunlight
beaming through the clouds

how she longs for his strong hands
to run through her soft locks
of chocolate brown
and his eyes of sea glass
to pierce through the bright
mix of colors in her own

for him to fulfill her wish
to be held so tightly that the
warmth of his memory
can ease her loneliness
in the coldness of absence

old poem that is aight so here ya go...

By the Bottle


raspberry vodka replaces
the tightness in my chest
with trickles of numbness
that melt away the heartache

the room spins as the roar of
friends’ laughter grows
louder with every sip; my balance
is stolen from me by my glass

the shadows of doubt and pain
are drowned by the blaring music
the room spinning in a whirl
of mirth; spiraling into destruction

the empty bottle laughs in
my face; my eyes roll round and
round until they catch a glimpse
of my life, now useless and wasted