Monday, April 28, 2014

Teach me how to rhyme.

This is for the band who can't agree on a name.
The girls who sing to their hairbrushes about fame.
The ballers who got no game.
For the money treated all the same.

This is for the hotels with clean sheets.
The dead shrimp you didn't eat.
Songs not on repeat.
Warm socks and cold feet.

The times you got lost in Salt Lake City.
The girls who didn't get called pretty.
And the jokes you thought made you witty.

This is for the movies who got bad reviews.
Your good luck charm that made you lose.
The man who taught you to tie your shoes.
And the colleges that made you choose.

All the words you never said.
The thoughts stuck inside your head.
The pantries who still have bread.
The kids whose parents aren't yet dead.

All the jokes about your mom.
Whoever knows right from wrong.
All the girls with hair that's long.
And the babies who never came along.

The kids who said they didn't care.
The kids that weren't taught not to stare.
The kids who didn't question fair.
The kids who chopped off all their hair.

All the boys with ironed shirts.
The ones who claimed it didn't hurt.
The kids who never hit their growth spurt.
The ones who fell and tasted dirt.

You who wished upon a star.
Who was promised heaven wasn't far.
The hours you spent waiting in your car.
Drinking coffee black as tar.

I'm scared of scars. I'm scared of smoke.
I'm scared you think it's just a joke.
I'm scared your dick will make me choke.

I'm scared of lips. I'm scared of mouths.
I'm scared of north east west and south.
I'm scared this home is just a house.

Take me back to the age when you still thought snow had flavor.
Take me back to the days that I didn't savor.

This is for the Mrs. who thinks her hubby's still at work.
The girls who try and fail to twerk.
The boy who said he liked your quirks.
Your ex you swear is such a jerk.

For the kids who eat lunch all alone.
Whoever's dog is gnawing on your bones.
The bullying no one condones.
The prom dress your mother's sewn.

The plastic surgery you thought you needed.
How many tries it took til you succeeded.
The warnings you heard but never heeded.
The texts you wish you had deleted.

For the first kisses gone to shit.
The people who never sit.
Homeruns you didn't hit.
And the baseball players that can't spit.

This is for you.

5 comments:

  1. Brilliant. I didn't want it to end. Also, I feel like I should be the one saying the title. You are a phenomenal writer, creating these beautiful mosaics of complexity and emotion. Soap, you're clever and witty and my mind was blown when I saw "The Truth".

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  2. "I'm scared this home is just a house."

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  3. I love how you're not afraid to take risks. Sometimes your risk-taking worries me. But what I mean here is how you wrote a post that rhymes. You never rhyme. This is you trying something different. And it's good.

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