lemons, LA and a violin.

Disclaimer: this isn’t a poem lol.

 

Lemons are bitter.

Lemons make your water taste better.

Lemons are refreshing.

Lemons destroy your enamel.

Is lemon a fruit?

I used to drink lemon juice a lot.

I wonder if it helped my metabolism.

I used to hold hands in hoodies.

I miss that.

I still have Polaroids taken by the boy I liked.

I have many Polaroids.

I used to talk about grapes and lemons and mangos.

Prague. Czech Republic. Strings. Ferries. Coaches. Bratislava. A bottle of Vodka.

A grey inflatable pillow.

I never drank lemon juice when I travelled.

My lemon morphed into a monster.

Innocence turned into a stranger?

Bubbles. Tight fists. Nervous fidgeting.

Kensington. Euston.

Younger. It’s only one year.

America is far. New york is far. Colorado is far. LA is so far. Hawaii is so far.

Immature not ready= hurt & anger.

The continent stands next to a bohemian dress.

I loved my lemon.

I wonder if lemons know what love is.

Mango surrenders to the lemon.

Love? Hahahahahaha. Thank you.

No thank you.

My legs are a cocoon. The secrets are now mine.

Basement kitchens. A hand fits in my back pocket.

 

This won’t make sense.

It makes no sense to me. But I understand it.

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