Nonsense
We came from a small village in Africa,
To ask the truly important questions, like,
What sides go with kale?
To know things, such as -
I would never get married or climb a mountain
(Only one was a lie, and the other an impossibility)
Though it’s (somewhat) true,
That I once wrestled my inner demons with my bare hands
(Don’t try to drown them, they know how to swim)
But on that day, I might-
With one eye closed, see sunlight
With the other eye closed, see storms
I see roaming cats, and wild geese.
Stare too long into the google, the google owns your soul.
Also, Dear Fucking Sir,
(Speaking of google, and not
looking up your name)
I’m sorry for never being sorry about leaving you
There’s no need to
argue anymore
I don’t hate you, it’s just your face - (and actually I really do hate you).
Your soul sucking excuse for a life will end as miserable as
it was lived
As below so above and
beyond I imagine
However, because of you, now I know.
How it feels to really be wanted.
I love you my heart, and you are not even perfect, sensible
or always truthful
The way you care even when you pretend you don’t
I’d choose no other to trip me in the zombie apocalypse
You are creatively queen, verbed in all the right nouns.
Then I remember that,
I’m really not into anything but action movies,
But I secretly love stupid chick flicks
I forgot, the question-
What sides go with kale?
Or was it,
(to kneel in rain, hands raised dramatically to the sky)
To cry out (in sense of desperate desire)
Dear Gods (or gods) around, what was the thought behind the
platypus, and are we truly lost?
To hear the thunderous echoing laughter
And remember the answer
(Printed in 6 point comic sans, as was deemed the message of
the gods)
To remember to laugh,
and only as much as you believe you are.
