Mouth To Mouth
 
in the benign beginning,
she was null and void (without shape),
translucent i like the landscape.
so, you can't blame him for
spitting on a pile of dust,
earth-toned that she was.
and the smite was a warm
blanket, warm and moist.
ideal for germs and she was
covered in her cradle;
a petri dish of saliva,
dust, and disgust.
it was her first crush.
the taste was robust. take the red.
mix with white, quicken with the
spark of hate (or life).
and now she needs it.
she can fly like an f-15.
and now she wants it.
your hate’s the typhoon beneath her wings.
what a shock! it's a shock! i'm in shock!
so, when you called her “weirdo”,
it set the motion in her blood flow.
and with your gust of laughter,
it filled her lungs much like the act of
"mouth to mouth", but, maybe,
more south; filling her in-and-out.
throw a punch, feels i like love,
fuels her like an isometric lunch.
and now she needs it.
she can fly like an f-15.
and now she wants it.
your hate’s the typhoon beneath her wings.
what a shock! it's a shock! i'm in shock!
while she's fed tacks and daggers,
you're soft with caviar.
and now, she's nuclear.
how will you act when it's back
at ton fold?
and now she needs it.
she can fly like an f-15.
and now she wants it.
your hate’s the typhoon beneath her…
and now she needs it.
she can fly like an f-15.
and now she wants it.
your hate’s the typhoon beneath her wings.
what a shock! it's a shock! i'm in shock!
she never runs. she never hides.
she says she can quit
anytime. anytime. anytime.
anytime. anytime. mmmmm.