whenever i see Sharlet walking down the
street, a huge rush of happy goodness
rushes thru me. and that's because you
always have a great time being around
Sharlet. it's a universal given. and
she always has something creative in
her bag that she is working on. that
makes her bad-ass. the fear. the
loathing. the las vegas. she's the
bomb. 649 remain.
good night. and you know my bed
bugs dont bite. they softly linger. in
the folds of my pillows...whispering
the love echos of girls like charlotte.
whispering the wavering of willows.
can you see it? i love this girl too
much. she cares when its
inappropriate to care. shes cooler
than smooth she dares. she says,
"fuck being scared!" and i whisper to
myself thank god and oh jeez.
comforted always by her kisses
daisical plus pleased.
when i imagine sharlet she is
wearing that goofy ass wool hat with
the long ear strings (?) and she is
wearing her glasses and she is in
the front seat of the car (ryan is
driving) and she is shrieking literally
screaming in the car about
something and she is pumping her
arms in the air and thrusting her
pelvis toward the window and
bouncing up and down. and just
imagining that (and granted im hgih
a=off the couch weed) makes me
crack up, split open, hysterically. but
only in my head cause its late and im
a lone and i dont want to wake up
tara so its more of a toungue bit
between teeth chortle that, if i had
them, would show off my crows feet.
i mean wrinkled toes. crows feet
wrinkled toes
charlotte is cooler than soap on a
rope! true, i never see her, but when
i doo, she's super fun and doesn't
judge me when i'm loud...i heart
hangin' with the girl! YEEEEEEE
HAWWWWWW!!
Somebody's doppelganger but on the
other side of the glass, doing me doing
me doing me better than me, as we were
shaking the rum tum tummies till all
fall down. Girl shines a light, ya'll.
street, a huge rush of happy goodness
rushes thru me. and that's because you
always have a great time being around
Sharlet. it's a universal given. and
she always has something creative in
her bag that she is working on. that
makes her bad-ass. the fear. the
loathing. the las vegas. she's the
bomb. 649 remain.
bugs dont bite. they softly linger. in
the folds of my pillows...whispering
the love echos of girls like charlotte.
whispering the wavering of willows.
can you see it? i love this girl too
much. she cares when its
inappropriate to care. shes cooler
than smooth she dares. she says,
"fuck being scared!" and i whisper to
myself thank god and oh jeez.
comforted always by her kisses
daisical plus pleased.
tree and humping a knoll is not
bullshit
wearing that goofy ass wool hat with
the long ear strings (?) and she is
wearing her glasses and she is in
the front seat of the car (ryan is
driving) and she is shrieking literally
screaming in the car about
something and she is pumping her
arms in the air and thrusting her
pelvis toward the window and
bouncing up and down. and just
imagining that (and granted im hgih
a=off the couch weed) makes me
crack up, split open, hysterically. but
only in my head cause its late and im
a lone and i dont want to wake up
tara so its more of a toungue bit
between teeth chortle that, if i had
them, would show off my crows feet.
i mean wrinkled toes. crows feet
wrinkled toes
rope! true, i never see her, but when
i doo, she's super fun and doesn't
judge me when i'm loud...i heart
hangin' with the girl! YEEEEEEE
HAWWWWWW!!
other side of the glass, doing me doing
me doing me better than me, as we were
shaking the rum tum tummies till all
fall down. Girl shines a light, ya'll.