Hydrogen Bonds...
Weights on my ankles, depression and anxiety; I'm drowning in this pond.
I write to waste spice because I'm lonely, insults are the best restaurants.
Gentle...
Journal!
Bubble.
Puzzle?
Pathetic!
Plastic...
Pandemic?
Genetic.
DNA to Proteins...
Insults make you stronger; magnificent training and sympathetic assassins.
I'm still a captain, but my seas are sometimes infested by mountains and goblins.
Laughing, a type of cynical laugh; one that eats a rumble and echo.
I think I'm normal because sometimes I want to punch someone in the marrow.
Sum 50 years more to my brain, on Saturdays I play bingo.
Feel the body disappear into an arrow that will never kill a shadow.
Cry every Friday, a good sob is one that's scheduled; the pillow fluff turns into snow.
Can I say that when I'm sad I eat cocoa with mango?
Let loneliness taint the lungs black: you're so toxic, Tobacco!
It's so easy to fall when the surface is uneven; right, Domino?
If I throw myself off a borderline can I call it a window of embargo?
Bleach discolors the rainbow and every time it does I climb the ladder and paint it yellow.
The list of names that shame me are what make me human, I'm a Golden Ticket!
The list of names I call myself is endless and perfect like Deoxyribonucleic Acid...
Wicked!
Morbid?
Hybrid...
Horrid.
Mushroom?
Showroom...
Red-room.
Bloom!
Worrywart.
Discord?
Apricot!
Afterthought...
Jealous...
Religious.
Anxious?
Nervous!
Sidekick?
Romantic...
Dynamic.
Critique!
Reasonable!
Memorable.
Respectable...
Available?
Barata, Iguana, Dibujada, and...
The list of names I call myself is endless and empty.
It's time to follow the old recipe.
You pick a name, one that's not vanilla like Friendly and Chubby!
Tell me later, I hope it rhymes with the insults above and it's heavy.
If you get it right I'll buy you a cup of coffee.
I hope I wasted your time wisely, because genetics is like an endless pedigree.
The world comes with mutations and heredity, I'm just giving you courtesy.
I may be beautiful in genetics eyes, but you treat me like an Old Battery!
You and I have a list, one write in blood and gold, that's the one thing I can guarantee.
When they pickle you in salt and honey make them feel like they're the Dummy.
YOU ARE READING
When Only Paper Can Save
PoésieSueño con un paraíso colorido, que el himno nacional sea un latido. The flag will not know bloodshed. Bad people will see what's truly up ahead. Yo quiero que el humano sea humano y que sus acciones no sean en vano. I want people to be treated e...
