Sunday, July 28, 2013


I am poison to soft hands  
Moisturizer to those who ask for their hair to be pulled
You looked at my scraped knuckles and immediately pounced
Half of my wardrobe in your closet after two days

But, Jesus, you couldn’t have been more wrong
About the money, the persona, the hybrid intelligence
And you try and change me to fit your gutter judgments

I am poison to the opposite of decency
My boots are not for licking or tromping
They are for walking lightly uphill and sometimes dancing
I hope to hell you find some sort of partner that fucks with their eyes closed

And, Jesus, you could be worth a second glance
The beauty, the charm, the way you move with grace
And I try to change you to fit my better judgments (don’t look at me)

Seeing you later would only prolong the annoyance
Opposites attract....yeah, opposites attract tonight