being alive or whatever

unfinished thought boye

THIS IS A WRECK I JUST HAD TO WRITE IT DOWN FOR THE SAKE OF MY SANITY

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hey, I've got a story, got a story up in my head
and i want it on paper b4 the day they deem me dead
full of pretty boys who write and play guitar
like the ones i met at your party, they're going far
and girls like you
with parents they hate
and twin size beds they just learn to tolerate
and that night i talked to him the way you read about in books
for an hour, about being alive, we sat behind that bush
and i told him how i saw that girl kiss three boys in one song
and if i ever told her sister she'd be ruined
wouldn't carry on
and when alex told me i was so different to how he imagined i gave him my cheap wine
and told him let's drink that one
eyes on fire
sam's a dragon
with the heart of a bear
asked me why i had a lighter
and i told him it was for my sparklers
pulled them out and made lights
and now he sends me his poems
says 'remember when you were scared'
and the truth is i still am
because I'm not 17
can't write the way he does
i mean the truth is we'll see
he'll probably get bored of me

the moral of this mess of words
is that no matter who you are
when a boy asks to borrow your fishnets
please let him
it'll work out
and the kid who babysat you probably deals ecstasy at highschool parties

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goddamn sarah needs some sleep