I'm nothing but the words I speak
A curling tangerine around a shivering little spine
Drooling juicy innovations like saliva marinade
Atop a lemon-layered birthday cake
In cursive icing letters
That spell out
"I'm Still Here"
Though sometimes I'm the songs I sing
The water-colored whispers in the wind
Swaying deliciously in strawberry sin
Nodding forth through thickening fog
Slicing life apart so it can be served in edible portions
That taste like
honey-glazed sobriety
But mostly I'm the things I think
Angry little watermelon seeds
That spit themselves into red brick walls
Bitter ammunition of a similar-winking fool
That could fly as high as his words do
If they only simply realized
that they matter too
Adding your comment:
Don't read them,I'll just pretend I'm speaking with your poems!
This has great progression and perfect descriptions. The picture is amazing as well. Great write once again, you should own that contest.
