CRAZY LOVE, Sorry Episodes

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CRAZY LOVE,
Sorry Episodes




I am at a loss, dumbfounded,
Neither you nor I have forgotten the depth,
The big range of affection ready at our command,
We always felt exceptionally well-suited,
We were great couple in so many ways…

You yourself proclaimed our special bond.
One early Sunday evening, it was sometime mid August;
You, though you probably have forgotten,
What you had said, it meant a lot to me.


We stood at the corner, remember?
Seventh Avenue at Twenty-Fourth Street,
Awaiting the red traffic light signal,
When I told you of a recent article from “Science Times”,
The every Tuesday section of the New York Times,
It reported the outside perimeter,
A year and half at tops, the intensity of romantic love,
The passion subsides that quick scientists argue.

Oh! You immediately demurred,
We had not even crossed the Avenue, before
You objected, challenged the current science,
And proclaimed, and said “Not for us!”
You professed the special heat, how our romance,
Our romance more akin to eternal flame,
Not subject to normal wane of heart’s intensity.

My soul took flight; my love ran to ecstatic,
I felt like Superman who in single bound
Able to leap tall buildings, I believed my power
Greater than steam locomotive,
That I ran faster than speeding bullets,
I could bend steel with my bare hands.

Poppycock! Pure, unadulterated balderdash,
Tomfoolery personified, and me the idiot for believing,
Any word you might say, by October you were gone,
Your every promise, your solemn vows, prevarication.
Everlasting love, indeed! It lasted
Bit more than a month and one half.

I am sick of it, this terrible romance,
I can not go on, I feel it’s charade,
Too much, the caprice,
You toss me to the ground, stomp upon me,
The ungrateful child’s unwanted toy,
However you may have wanted me,
I exist no more, and am broken.

For both of us there’s plenty desire,
You sneak up on me and stoke
The flame which still fires your heart,
Neighbors tell me they see you,
Saying how you haunt me,
How you seem unable to let me go,
Signs the real extent,
How much you must still love me.

And I write this love poem,
Though what was once this thing of ours,
This breathe and we wondrous, beauteous mates,
Finished, driven apart, and my verse,
Pathetic exercise, sorry chapter
In story gone nowhere,
It bears title, everything about us so crazy.

Had I not become accustomed to your way,
Spent no time next to you in bed,
Were I smart enough a man,
Avoiding you in the first place,
Never saying a word to you,
Except perhaps the usual humors,
The greetings ‘Good Morning, and Hello’,
The simple inquiry about your health,
Asking the everyday about how are you,
I would never have gotten to the point,
That loathsome feeling, you love me no more.

And equally, both sad and disturbing,
That mine, the warmest of regard,
Turns to disdain, and fervent wish,
We speak no more, and I never see you again.

I feel you, woman. I have the telepathic gift
To hear when you think of me, and you know it!
Right now I could clench my teeth,
Do an inward scream, whose loudness
Would awake you and disturb your sleep to dawn.

I wish I could caress you,
Practice the arts, embrace my erotic bent,
Oh had I been allowed more time to turn you,
To make you a slave to love, enthrall you,
But I really wish, I might have forgotten you,
Relegated your touch to darksome region,
A place free, blank, where I
No longer remember your name.

Can’t you fall in love with someone else?

I know it’s wrong for me to say,
I love you. So let me go.
Time will strengthen my resolve,
I shall move on, your chance to reconcile,
To prove your word sincere and true,
Though once here, has come and gone.

Darling, we have fallen and are amiss,
No! No joy, fruitless to embark upon a road,
A road running to distant horizon,
Yet it goes nowhere,
With its ultimate end, the final end of us.

My pledges of love, all my dreams, now lament,
My mind is rent, devastated is my heart,
My joy, sorrow, my victory, nightmare defeat,
I am mad for neither can I live with nor without you.

I believe I love you, but the love has gone.
I so hot and bothered, I am cold,
My regard for you now soured, turned to disdain.
I desire your return; take you back readily any ol’ day,
Too bad I no longer believe a word you say.

I’ll say it using the cliché, maybe make it clear,
I am rock steady, but I’m beginning to shake,
How much more, this heart breaks, can I take?

SEEKING A MUSE, Personal Classified Advertisement

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SEEKING A MUSE,
Personal Classified Advertisement




I know what to do!
I am not at a loss, despondent, nor down and out,
Not at all! I’ve got plenty of options.
I’ll run an ad in Craig’s List,
Or a personal in one of those free Weeklies.


I’ll write, Single, White, Male,
Looking for a muse,
A girl to inflame my verse,
Make my heart sing a wondrous refrain.

I’ll say she must be educated and smart,
Tall, slim, and good with money,
A brunet, who has a pleasant smile,
And whose buttocks own an exquisite form.

I’ll require her voice to possess subtle timbre,
Her smell to be sweet and, above all,
I’ll demand that she be
Disciplined in work and habit,
Someone to put me to bed early,
And early to arise, a woman who might
Qualify suitable mother for a child or two.

Oh! Did I forget to mention?
I want large brown eyes and an olive complexion.

So don’t think, don’t believe for a moment,
That you are elemental, like some sustenance crucial
To happiness and breathe, for you are not. Ha!
You see how easily you can be replaced!

Get it straight! I know what to do.
Honest! It's not that big of a deal.
I’ll run an ad in Craig’s List,
Or a personal in one of those free Weeklies.

LOSING YOU! Very Early Morning Poem

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LOSING YOU!
Very Early Morning Poem




Petal, now that is a great name for a woman.
It is not yours, but it is great nonetheless.


Should you really believe you might leave,
Allow me to be home alone for months on end,
And expect me to await your every return,
Happy to collect you at the airport,
Joyous when you walk through the door,
You very well might be sorely mistaken.
It appears you have love you cannot keep.

You have been so selfish in your pursuits.
"How long, pray,
Will you take advantage of my patience?"

You hardly wrote to me at all, and I gather
Some of my letters to you have not been read
And many of the topics I raised not addressed.

You have been warned, time and again.
Our life together has been too tightly wound.
Your busy schedule precludes common wisdom.

You have forgotten that in this world,
In this world of ours life soon passes.
We walk these streets a few times,
Before too long we disappear and are gone.
No second chance, we do not return again.

The fact remains I can not take your absence.
I miss the warmth of your flesh next to mine.
My heart breaks when I turn my head in bed,
And see the pillow empty, without your face.

And now it is very early morning
And, you know me, that I speak truth
When I say, 'I have not slept for days.’

Later today I go to meet Pastor Borner.
Then I have an appointment with my Doctor,
And although my face might not show
How tired I actually am
I really have no way to disguise my sadness.

I always smile but in my eyes my sorrow shows.

Maybe you will get one more chance,
But, then again, you may not.
The love affair seems over,
Where once happiness had reigned,
Woe takes place.

This thing of ours is unlikely,
Not much chance it will,
Ever again, be the same.

HOME, Happy Domicile

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HOME,
Happy Domicile


Let not yourself be troubled.

Believe in me, in the dwelling, here, for you,
Not only in the physical space,
Upon whose floor our hearts' drama plays,
But in my soul where I built a mansion,
Set a great kitchen to feed our spirit,
And hung awesome crystal chandeliers,
Light, so our feet not stumble
When we awake before sunrise
To start our appointed chores.

And were it not so,
Were I to have had a change of heart,
I would not have pledged my word.

I have been utterly honest.

My verse attests to sincerity,
Showing my readiness to receive you;
Happy domicile awaits your presence.

I continue to outfit our home,
And the Lord abides, proclaims
For length of days, health and long life,
And peace shall fill the chests
And the closets, and our rooms
Shall know an abundance of His holy spirit.

Our kitchen shall have every appliance,
Super store of food on its shelves, and within its
Cabinets not only plenty daily sustenance,
But great warmth and emotional well being.

Where I am, I pray, there may you also be.
And where ever I go, I ask
-- I know you will keep your promise --
You will prove yourself true,

And follow me to that same place, too.

BAD GIRL

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BAD GIRL



Her disease, it said,
‘Dark around and within,
But outside, far outside, it’s all light.’


It said,
‘I’m a beggar,
My richness, my excitement, my genital,
All that shines outside,
I am empty.’

SPLEEN, A Poem In Two Parts, II

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SPLEEN,
A Poem In Two Parts, II


II.



You could not tell your mother
You were living with me, home with me and in my bed,
That I had touched you in so many intimate ways,
That you had professed your love for me,
And solemnly promised to cherish, honor and behave.


You told me you would make me proud,
That you were woman of parts,
You claimed piety and beauty, and extraordinary soul.

You misrepresented your every intention!
I mean, it hurts me more, more every day,
I simply can not believe,
Believe how often you misspoke to me.

I understand that I must,
But I have this difficulty getting over it

I shake my head in disbelief, your cold, cold heart
No exaggeration, here, my spirit crestfallen,
You trampled my soul,
Aborted any hope, and deprived me
Even to semblance of, a hint of dignity.

You continually lied to your mother,
Chasing back and forth, duplicity,
When the telephone rang you lived at the hostel,
Not with me at this address, this was your home,
You lived here with me,
What nicety allowed you excuse,
How dare you adopt and practice such perfidy
Whose scope took me more than a year to realize?

But the biggest lie, the lie you tell yourself,
And here, I guess, lies the real evil,
About the past being the past,
About your ability to forget it,
That there exists no such thing as trauma!
Why call it domestic abuse,
Just sweep it under the rug.

That’s your claim, in spite your readily apparent pain.
Good Lord, take a moment,
Review everything that had happened,
It is as if you were saying, I need no help,
My involvement with that man, the horror,
Has no impact, it neither affects me nor my character.

When I hear your words,
When they run through my mind,
I accept how you have hurt me,
My soul cleaves, a man cleaves unto a woman,
My soul’s always a part of you.

You want to be my friend,
You say it over and again,
You say it’s what you always wanted,
But you show no effort to prove it,
No recovery or willingness to accept
The central fact you must face the sickness,
It rules you and your biggest lie, your failure,
Your wrong, how you hurt most yourself,
Your living a lie, a symptom of the thing,
The monster within who plots your death,
Here is the real truth, your disease it kills you.

You saw my conduct, how I lead with my heart,
Suspended disbelief, dropped all critical acumen
To woo you, to be a proper man, so much love,
You commented praiseworthily
About the propriety of my ways,
And you saw how I raised my child.

Princess, and that’s a title your heart fancies!

Princess, the world bellows,
Whole world does see, my marvelous girl,
It’s the price paid, it frequently happens to nobility,
It happens to many, those who are born to privilege.

Your life now public and up for rebuke,
Your lousy demeanor and ultimate want,

The lowness of your family life soon immortal,
Your treachery to live forever in published verse.

You say you want to be my friend,
Yet do not acknowledge bosom requires
Both honesty and accommodation, and you,
My love, have not inclination,
You seem to have no talent for either.

I hardly have anything left to say,
I’ll eat some candy, open a can,
I’ll have some pork and beans.

I curse the day,
The day my dream of love’s uplift turned to descent.

Some one once wrote, I believe it reads,
In noble minds some dregs remain,
Not yet purged off, of spleen and sour disdain.

SPLEEN, A Poem In Two Parts

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SPLEEN,
A Poem In Two Parts

I.


Ha! Aren’t you something!
You’re asking me to be your friend.
Forgive my lapse into the colloquial,
I lack another, another way to put it.


Where? Oh! Where do you get the nerve?
What unmitigated gall propels you,
When you have fallen far from the mark,
Lack common decency to comport yourself
Within any norm of self respect, or
Concern for the well being of any other,
Wanting impulse, regard for truth?

What are you, how nasty, how you have hurt me!

I curse the day,
The day my dream of love’s uplift turned to descent.

Have you no shame,
Pitiless you are! You know how much I love you,
I felt our souls were as one.

But your cruelty surfaced at the start.
Remember that May Day,
Our first real Holiday together,
Remember, our first full day together,
After your return from the homeland,
After we had not seen each other for seven months,
Not having seen each other for seven months.

I wish I could sincerely say
That I am fine and dandy with the me inside.

I wrote you all those letters,
I waited for you and worked hard to make
Your homecoming right, worked my ass off,
I found an apartment, moved furniture and belongings
Ran the business, wrote poetry….

You treated me like…, well I must,
Here I must resort to vulgarity, the vulgar,

You treated me like shit,
Were I simply able to look straight into the mirror,
Claim I am tickled pink.
Excuse me, if my manners make a scene.

You were skilled in your ways,
You started on the offensive.
Picky, picky, picky,
It must be a symptom, for it certainly
Points to the way you eat your meals,
Good God! At the end there were two,
We were reduced to two restaurants,
By the end of it we had two places where,
We might have something to eat.

And you played your hand skillfully,
Practiced as you were in the art, prevarication,
Playing me on for months on end,
Lie after lie and I never caught on, then.
You were shameless, hustled me for vittles.

The happy days, where are they?

Those days were few and seem so hard to find,
Whatever happened to our love,
You did tell me you loved me, or am I dreaming,
Were you playing me, was I the fool?
You did ask I await your return?
I thought it might be real nice,
I wish I understood,
Wasn’t it once so good?

Please, darling, please, might you notice
How much our affair revolved around food,
The eating of it and the gaining of weight,
I am still not over it, everything,
Your collecting recipes and filing them,
Assiduously clipped from cooking magazines,
To how you loved TV’s “The Biggest Loser”,
You once said pointing to some porky contestant,
“If I ever get like that, just shoot me.”
I believe I said I would happily comply.

And the drama was strange, strange indeed,
Once you went through the garbage,
-- By habit I always double bagged it. –
Then after your inspection, you complained,
You complained when you met me at work,
I had not cut the watermelon to the quick,
Too much fruit remained upon the rind.

Oh, my darling girl, sorry I displeased you,
Perhaps some day I’ll mend my profligate ways.

Junkie, tramp, liar, what a creep!

Plain, old, common, everyday nutriment,
Feed’s always an issue.
I figure the reason you can not behave proper,
You can not swallow your pride,
You can not finish your dinner.

Some one once wrote – perhaps John Dryden?
It was an historical figure nonetheless,
In noble minds some dregs remain,
Not yet purged off, of spleen and sour disdain.

And when I objected, understand,
Had no desire to pick up every tab,
The extra super-market purchases
You were buying for your own room,
Nourishments you had no intention to share with me,
You pulled a fast one, tried a rationalization,
You bullshitted me about
How your father treats women,
Oh my God! Did I really need a lecture
About his generosity and free spending,
His financial chivalry when it came to the opposite sex?

(Reader, had you only been there for that recital,
She had full-of-herself smugness deep into her face.)

I had to stop you, and in a letter I reminded you
-- You had told me already --
How a court order was necessary,
Him to support his ex-wife, and kids,
Strength of character, epitomized, a stand-up guy,
No! It seems a lack of backbone.

Think, sweetie, you must have inherited it from Dad,
The fear, the fear of your mother,
Guess what? Fear is an enemy,
Though with the sick it frequently masquerades
As good counsel, pretends to be a friend.

Was our love a game and you set me up for loser?

Some situation, hey!
The situation, fear engendered,
One son and three daughters,
And no mention of the grandchildren,
Never mind possible grand daughters,
All of them alienated, they have nothing to do with you,
They never speak to him at all.

It is the kind of story that makes me happy,
Glad that he is not my Daddy,
Chivalrous indeed, what a crock of shit!

You, you had me pay for food, food
You ate alone in your hostel.

You cheat me, and yet you must know,
Know how great my love for you!

You offered me nothing in return,
Except the sad story, a sordid tale,
And not yet the real truth, that you would drop
Later, like the other, proverbial shoe,
The evil of your partaking, of a long-time affair
With a man who proved your alter ego,
Who proved it over the years
His love was equal to yours.

Both of you liars, what a lovely affair,
Match made in heaven, I am surprised,
Struck by the short duration, only five years,
When you two lovers seemed so well suited,
Sweetie, how do you do it? Remain absent
From his arms! You, poor child, I know you
Still love him, hanker for the mutual abuse,
Listen, Misses, where talk exists there’s desire,

Oh when Stanley’s standing by, my o’ my,
The dreadful things you must say about him,
That awful old boy friend and all his lying,
His constant running in debt to you,
Promises, but repayment absent,
And the way he with sex abused you,
But who knows, who knows what happened,
What’s really happening?

Wonder if you are in contact with him, again,
I mean your old lover,
Wouldn’t surprise me, when
Dealing with you one never hears the truth.

The stories, oh the stories!
Remember that date with Mora?
Out of the clear blue, you had to spend the night,
She was a long-time girlfriend, you said.
But I had never heard of her before,
I had to be reminded of the story of your meeting,
I don’t believe I ever heard of her again.

Mora who? I questioned. Let me meet her
Or tell me her last name. Ha!
You, you would never deign to answer.

Your response was silence, you’re haughty that way.

Learned at home when native in your native land,
The terror, the fundamental disquiet,
I guess few may imagine, how desperate your life,
How ill at ease, how you must bury it,

“Let’s spend the day shopping,” you say,
“Go searching from store to store
“There you see, you know me,”
“It’s what I am like anyway.”

A running dialogue you pathetically repeat
And convince no one, not even yourself.

Your home here in the states, your lessons,
You studied hard, gained Advanced Placement,
You told me you made "wait list" at Princeton,
Here’s the humor, were you not inducted,
A member, wasn’t it the National Honor Society?

But what you learned best was deception,
The past arises each time the telephone announces
Your mother, you lie to your mother.

And you, you’re a woman within the year,
The age of Jesus, Crucified,
Still you are unable to reveal truth to your mother!

It’s all laughable, were it not awful, terribly sad.

Is it my lot? Shall I continue to live in torment?

GODDESS, Rewrite

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GODDESS,
Rewrite




The first time I saw you.
It was in a remote world;
It was years ago.

You, yourself, were in a niche, manifest,
In a Hindu temple, a marble figure,
With your eyes carved wide-open.
You were adorned in regal, pageant gown,
Dyed scarlet; gold thread woven within it
Made you shimmer in the flickering candle light;
I noticed your eyes were painted violet.


Your right arm, it protruded direct, out
From the shoulder, it was bent right angle
At the elbow, it had a barely clenched fist atop,
And from your fist a thumb extended
Straight up perpendicular to your head,
Its signal was unmistakable, providential,
It portended good luck, ‘thumb’s up’.

Brass bowls of red-hot coals burned
Perfumed joss sticks at your feet.

Your supplicants cued from portal to portal arch,
They humbly awaited chance to implore good fortune.

And they carried on polished metal trays
Oblations of fresh-cut flowers and I remember seeing
Strings of marigolds, cluster upon cluster of pompons,
And with them bunches of large lotus flowers.

They offered all kind of fruit.
There were bananas, coconuts, and pomegranates.

All was splashed with bright vermilion powder,
As if to inform the procession,
To remind those petitioners that once,
That once, it was not so long ago,
Blood had sanctified the sacrifice.

And me, I await, patient.
I am just another mortal, who prays for favor,
Hope to tease meaning from your stare,
I desire, I wish for you to bless me,

My eyes are locked,
They dwell upon your motionless and painted face.

I hear drums tap out devotional rhythm,
And through the distance a din of flutes and whistles,
Singers repeat your name to accent your ascendancy.
Oh! How deep the people’s love and ardor.

I go deep within my pocket, pull
Wrapped, hard candies, add them to my tray of gifts,
And excitedly show the temple priests,
I wear appropriate raiment. I tell them

My nostrils detect your mango fragrance!

And in the clamor, coming up, almost inaudible,
Against the background noises of the street,
I believe I hear your coded parlance,
'I miss you'. You tell me, you miss me.

I am on my knees, I plea,

Goddess, Love, grant me the serenity
To accept the long absence
Before you are flesh in my arms again,

The courage to change those things about me
So better to pray and be proper devotee,

And the wisdom to remain faithfully yours,
To be yours and yours alone, today, tomorrow,
Whatever obstacles may bar the way,
Stay a course steadfast and loyal, fervently always.

WELL, WELL, WELL! Rewrite

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WELL, WELL, WELL!
Rewrite



It won’t be long now,
Our love, how it plays its final story,
Like all else in world’s glory,
Soon end and be no more.


Perhaps we never meet again.
We learn the awful ache,
What separation means,
When time runs out and we see
It’s too late to mend a heart
That has been rendered, torn apart.

Right now I feel it’s true,
We will never meet again, while
Yet we remain this side of heaven, while
Still we abide earth’s shore of the river.

Strange, yeah, our fragile hope
That you stop it with your forked tongue,
Abandon your bad habit, and proclaim,

Admit it; you broke the deal,
And, as for me, you know the story,
Surrender, otherwise, forget it,

Just say to all, to one and all,
I am gone, you’ve done me wrong.
I swear, I don’t care, I don’t care.
I am gone. Gone, Gone, Gone,

I am through with you in my face.

The hurt is real bad.
You hardly ever told the truth,
Employed every kind of subterfuge,
Remember the time when I implored you,
Asked, time and time, again,
A simple request, I wanted a few month’s itinerary.

You pretended not to know the meaning,
You pretended not to know
The meaning of the common English word,
And when you finally succumbed,
Sent me your plans,
Not a word of it proved true.

Awful, actually very sad,
After all the time we had spent together,
Face it! Your miserable fate, lousy life,
All of it predicated upon treachery.
All of it amounts to a pack of lies.

I’ve had it! I’m really gone! Moved on,
Because you done me wrong!

LOVE SONG, Heart's Journey

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LOVE SONG,
Heart’s Journey



Do you trust me?
Do you have a single doubt,
I love you? Do I forsake you,
Or fail to keep my word?


I feel within me,
Light has dispelled darkness.
My conscience’s clear.

For a thousand different reasons,
And just one, I love you most of all,
I love you, because you’re you.

I sing like Elvis, but I am here,
God lets me live, I sing the song.
I love you the way you are, dear.
I have no rhyme or reason.
No matter what they say about me,
Most of all I love you,
I love you, because you’re you.

But now what else am I to do?
Will every other’s face
Be now and forever but second best?

I fall before terrible truth,
I am no good, no good to any one,
I’m no good to anyone after loving you.

On our first date,
It rained the entire day.
We drove Jersey’s back roads and highways.
We talked business.
We praised the special light,
And thanked God for blessing,
For the Grace, that befell us.

Though we are separated now,
You have my love. I adore you.

You might send a Private Eye
To track my days and nights,
You might send a troop,
Special Forces to search and seek
Any rugged terrain where I might hide,
Give them night vision goggles
So to visit every nook,
Every recess of my soul,
And all they will find, my love,
They will find, only, my love for you.

POEM WRITTEN IN A COOKING MAGAZINE

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POEM WRITTEN IN A COOKING MAGAZINE

The man was quite mad.
He enjoyed writing in code.
He invented special kinds of short hand,
Kept business records in a language,
Intelligible to himself and the initiated,
Cryptic labels marked the boxes,
The boxes of all the things he possessed.




But when it came to life's basics,
Though, technically speaking,
He still bordered on insanity,
His manner of speech was straightforward.
He wrote in the King's English.
He said, ‘I love you’.
And he proclaimed for all that care to hear,
‘I worship the ground upon which you walk’.

COUNT SLOBENDORF’S MISFORTUNE

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COUNT SLOBENDORF’S MISFORTUNE




He was unable to recall
When he had last seen the words,
‘I love you’, form upon her lips.


Still he had not known
The woman sought only his fortune,
Until time spent with her
Seemed like life in prison.

WHITE BOY REMIX

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WHITE BOY REMIX



Hey! Hey! Heart!
For you, a solid jam.
Flowzzzz!
A romantic tune,
How boy feels ‘bout a girl.

You're always on my mind, yeah.

How boy feels ‘bout girl,
At heart of verse,
Everyday blaitently xx
Do you know how it feels
When all I do is,
Is miss you?
Brap brap 5 star, jme sik man
You're always on my mind.

I do a wicket trax.
I drop some other lines,
That you might know
Dis shiznit’s
Shizzle for sure!

Miss you
Suffer awesome, real bad,
Real bad from the lack,
What I am yearnin’ 4
I wait the empty night?
What am I wantin’ 4?

Your face, you and me,
That pillow’s empty next to mine!
In the midnight hour,
Heaven help!
Darling, ever since the day,
When you went away,
Preguntas: Never better a song,

Can I? Can I live without you?
Baby, come on back,
Come back. You know
You know 4sure
I still love you.

Harmony, up-and-down, playin’
Tells a story in my head

How a man feels ‘bout a girl,
Da poem mean to be da bomb,
It's the an, anthem for lovers.

I give you all of me,
ARGHH HYPE YPE
But you are not here to see
Me down upon my knees,
No thing's gonna change,
I say a big word, promise,
You got to ad mid IT,
Big UP Weedy-G!
G’s on dee monee,
My sweet love stays the same,
Hey! Hey! My love stays the same!
What I am yearnin’ 4,

I wait the empty night?
What am I wantin’ 4,
If not you?
Oh! no one else,
No one else will do.

Girl! You know
I wait to see you,
I feel joy inside!
Be mine! Love deep,
Know I still love you!
Shit, perky choon
Know I still love you,

That pillow’s empty next to mine.

Baby, I can't hold you,
All these lonely, lonely times.
I just want to tell you
Even if it's a loop,
Big tune
And it reremixzz 57dimes
Over, over again
I'm so happy you were mine.
Can’t stop, Whiteboizhustlenflow
Don't want to fool.

Dis love is mint,
My heart belongs heavy, you,
No body else! Nobody else,
Bless! Bless would do!

Even if I play it, over, over again,
Sixty X twenty three, this mornin’,
I start
Beyond wordz dark mix onn my page :/
I'm so happy you,
You ONCE WERE MINE.
That's what I'm,
What am I yearnin’ 4
Each and every empty night
Mi done tell u I say it tuff
To have your lips on mine.

Hey! Hey! Heart!
For you, a solid jam.
Flowzzzz!
A romantic tune,
How boy feels ‘bout girl.

What am I wantin’ 4
To have you close,
I need you all the time!
Take me in, your,
Your one and only,
Whitty boiz’s here!
Me done tell u,
I say it tuff.