Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

Joker:
Sunday dinner had a precursor of momma announcing I'm cooking so don't nobody touch this stove
Then when I got older, they would always say if you can't take the heat stay out the kitchen
But the brain automatically goes against the challenges of free will 
And against my better judgement some things I just had to learn the hard way
Hard cover books aren't supposed to feel like pillows, but they do when you become engulfed in the narrative
I was wasting away in Barnes and Noble when the narrative turned the page, and I saw a smile that made the ink-colored leaves feel wet
A fall rain that watercolors the palette of tears from trees 
Tears that smear ink from the page onto my skin 
Into a smile that is now tattooed to my memory
Like the affirmation note I glance over every morning
This reminder was about 5'3, caramelized cinnamon skin, and a smile that made everyone believe in angels
A smile that hits all the wrong angles because I know you're not the one for me, but my nerves are intrigued 
On what that smile looks like as it melts away on my lips
Lava isn't supposed to be comforting
Drips of honey with every kiss, I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but I'm addicted…
To her smile, and the way it looked at me seeing everything others would ignore 
It's hard to ignore how hot and bothered she's got me like I'm back in the kitchen
I looked at my hand and could still see the scars from the stove
Momma warned me about girls like you
p.s. but I always liked to play with fire...

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