Wow, scary.

Its scary what comes out
the corner of my mouth.
What corn puff cheese
crumbles lurk, saying
that my lack of awareness
makes me look like a bafoon.
Whispered secrets and
wobbly kisses surround
my daily life.
Style is not an option here.

Toothpaste stains show
what attempts I have at
keeping my words clean
my body grows dirtier
as the days of growing
up become stronger.

How texting the one person
that makes your life shine
brighter than that classroom light
illuminating more than a rave party
and then recieving a soft and polite,
lovely reply.

It scary what tears drip to the corner
of my mouth, dripping like
that empt grey sink
in your kitchen and
your insides crinkle
like that bag of sun chips
I just emtied with
wolverine fingers and mouth
wide like a coffee stir straw.

It's freaky that I want you to stir me.
pour a little creamer hugs
and sugar cube kisses into
that wide steaming cup
behind my lungs. Drink it slow
taste every sip as if the world
would never end, that Time is
just a misspelled spice.
Drink, drink my cup.

Its scary what I can hold
in the corner of my mouth.