The personality of a stinging bumblebee,
This tongue defies gravity.
Mind the words,
Mustn't make them feel threatened.
Talking too much -
Too often our conversation's death sentence.
See, here I go again!
These parables in my throat,
Plead for ice-water
There is a special kind of Hell for untold stories.
I'd offer you apologies,
But that would turn into ten-million other stories
Probably about how I've always been made to apologize
For the gymnasts that are my thoughts.
They only know summersaults and headstands.
And all I wanted to say was,
Yeah, I hear you.