i'm not a poet

[volcomsurfgrrl]

rough fingers to my thighs
Different feel, Different sigh.
rough face grazing mine
different shave, different time.
speak monotone, thoughts on you
crimson stain on my cowgirl shoe.
words useless under this new sky
he knows, i know, says goodbye.

"think strait, my girl," the cats said to me.
disappearence of place me and he.
grandma's pins on my new courdoroy sash,
got yellow haired girl caught in some rash...
thinking, hoping presence at my front door
got the holy ghost pleading no more

far away view of my yellow hair
got some brand new girl sharing dispair
while you sit and wait for your new tatoo
I'll be hanging out in the room of blue.
tears cried, enough said, chitter chatter,
put some tranquility in that batter,
son.

cranberry tales of the new improved bleach
waiting sails for that girl of a leech
ahoy, my sailor, you ain't got a mast
not with her in your boat, better think fast!
laughing as the waves roll on without you
could've had a yellow haired mermaid too.

lost my train of thought and got into the whole sailor realm... oh dear...