(no subject)
Rachel
Like a bat from hell shot from the womb
Smirking, showing panties to the entire room
Endless talking, never quiet
A one-woman, tattooed, blue-eyed riot
Impulsive whimsy, prone to chuckle
Bites her nails and cracks her knuckles
Seldom blushes, brash and bold
Does what she wants not what she’s told
Loves to joke, to hug, and tease
Independent spark but aims to please
Dances in public, sings in the shower
Craves company hour after hour
Loves her snaggled teeth, the freckle on her lip
Bats her lashes, swings her hips
Eats jars of peanut butter with a knife
Will not make a subtle, docile wife
Petrified by silence, tape worms, and planes
Considers herself eccentric, not insane
Inventor of oddities, coiner of phrases
An open book, but a web of mazes
Insatiable appetites, slave to her passions
A maker of her own custom fashions
Clumsy waltzer, terminal at math
Does anything to get a laugh
She is her feelings, she thinks out loud
Makes sure to stand out in the crowd
A heathen skeptic, a flare for drama
She’s an explanation point and not a comma
Her humor shields a flamboyant spirit
Skips to her own beat, only she can hear it
Squeals in public, shares what’s private
She loves who she is, why would she hide it?
Like a bat from hell shot from the womb
Smirking, showing panties to the entire room
Endless talking, never quiet
A one-woman, tattooed, blue-eyed riot
Impulsive whimsy, prone to chuckle
Bites her nails and cracks her knuckles
Seldom blushes, brash and bold
Does what she wants not what she’s told
Loves to joke, to hug, and tease
Independent spark but aims to please
Dances in public, sings in the shower
Craves company hour after hour
Loves her snaggled teeth, the freckle on her lip
Bats her lashes, swings her hips
Eats jars of peanut butter with a knife
Will not make a subtle, docile wife
Petrified by silence, tape worms, and planes
Considers herself eccentric, not insane
Inventor of oddities, coiner of phrases
An open book, but a web of mazes
Insatiable appetites, slave to her passions
A maker of her own custom fashions
Clumsy waltzer, terminal at math
Does anything to get a laugh
She is her feelings, she thinks out loud
Makes sure to stand out in the crowd
A heathen skeptic, a flare for drama
She’s an explanation point and not a comma
Her humor shields a flamboyant spirit
Skips to her own beat, only she can hear it
Squeals in public, shares what’s private
She loves who she is, why would she hide it?