I don't know why, but I can't seem to get ahold of it. I remember something about how no one looks you in the eyes when you walk down the street here. something about how I couldn't figure out which apartment was mine and I had to mark it by that one gangly evergreen. something about being hungover and smelling pie, or rotting fish. but that was a long long time ago, only really not that long.
The lifetime of a rat, only one that's not so clever.
Here I am today. This is what it is. THIS is what it is. I can't seem to get anything done besides wait for you to wake up, which doesn't take much doing.
Most of the time I like this city much better when I shut my eyes.
Sometimes I miss being the girl that all the boys want to fuck, the life of the something, hitting you in the face with my hair, hair everywhere, 40 oz., pocket fulla nothing, backyard geysers, churches, and greasy mexican foooooood.
The next time I see you, I want you to be invisible. It wasn't even about you. You were like a train, a quiet train that arrives in the middle of the night. I didn't even hear you because I'm a heavy sleeper.
My whole life so far has been like stomping on eggshells.