Poetry

It’s Kind Of Like Crank

I’m a hotshot. I walk with an edge
My kisses taste like an orange wedge
I think I’m the best at negging a girl
But I only go nuclear on a chosen few
She chose me to be her boo
I’m like, koo

That ain’t no sweat
We got a gallon of jet fuel
For one big ass jet
It’s charted
Whatever that means
I walked into the living room
And saw a random movie scene
Should I sit down to watch?
Is what I asked myself internally
In a split second I made the decision
Not to. I walked into my room and saw my laptop open
I said, fuck it. I got to.
That ain’t even no choice
Someone should make a movie
About a guy who dies
If he doesn’t write
For over a week
Kind of like Crank
That guy had to be
An adrenaline junkie

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