I’m updating my blog to fangurrrrrrl over my boyfriend’s poetic prowess.
I thought my boyfriend would make a great rapper.
The way he easily comes up with words that rhyme and make sense in an incredibly short amount of time is nothing short of amazing. One can say, it’s a gift but we do not believe in a higher being to gift us with skills of the written word. Yes, written. His mind jumbles the words when it comes out of his mouth but when his hands talk, free-flowing, and quick I sit in silence watching him form words so simple but so well constructed I curse myself for not thinking of it.
My “poetry” consists of words forced from the back of my mind, while I searched the thesaurus for highfalutin phrases and old cliches. A flowery stanza after another flowery stanza with awkward stops and forced correlations. Nothing made sense. But he, my beloved, is able to turn the most vulgar of expletives into poetry. I am both jealous and proud. I am proud to have this man in my life. His words are pure and honest and simple. As should every poetry be.
My boyfriend wouldn’t make a great rapper. He’s a poet.
We have no title yet, for this… Sooooo…
Put a fork in me, I’m done
Put a dick in me, I’m fun
Put some meat in me, I’m a bun
Put bullets in me, I’m a gun
Put god in me, I’m a nun
Make words with me, I’m a pun
Put shoes on me, I gotta run
Pull a baby out of me, it’s a son
Put weights on me, I weigh a ton
I’m the lottery, and you’ve won.
I know I won the lottery when we found each other :3