kate nash inspired

my hair smells familiar,

after dye conditioner.

i wish i was british,

so i could recite this poem,

and it would sound like it does in my head,

like Kate Nash Pistachio Nut.

I want to ride the wave of your inhalent,

like Imogen says.

I'm pretty sure she's also british.

i want to live in london and have an accent.

and come back to the states

where everyone will remark on my perfect diction.

i want to drink egg nog until i get sick,

spin on the merry go round with you.

have toes in socks that don't get cold,

and boots that never slip.

i want my internet to load faster,

and my pscyh final to be over.

my mouth tastes like dairy

and i don't like cow juice.

shoulders need rubbing 

and i need cuddles, kisses, hugs, dreams, and goodbyes

my moods aren't predictable anymore,

they swing like a child on a playground,

flying up high and kicking,

bending at the knees and pushing up

to reach that very last bit at the top.

scared of that point where the chains go slack,

that moment where all control is lost,

where your bum jumps up off the seat,

and you free fall back down

but just barely.

my moods are like that.

 

Posted via web from rachelgabrielle's posterous