My heart,
it literally hurts
when I look at you
not a broken, bruised pain.
XOXOXO
XOXOXO
It's a green gas, caught
beneath the covers with your lover
And the hurt in your ribs
after you laugh until you cry.
A little Chrystal
Love her!
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Name...That...Author!!!
Hmm...mustache
dark and mysterious
To be...Or not to be...
Your second stanza cracked me up. Who doesn't love farts?
ReplyDeleteI think that's what you meant, right?
Ha ha ha...NOOO! who farts!?
ReplyDeleteJust kidding. Yes, it's about farts.