We were hardcore, soft-hearted R&J rejects looking for a place to call a home under the freezing-cold December street lamps on every corner while we prayed ourselves away from home & lied ourselves into each other’s arms.
Torn like a paper valentine,
I walked the streets at midnight
& cried for a better place.
[as the roads of toxic slime raced by my dragging feet & weary eyes, slapping against my burning calves & bruised thighs]
You were the ache in my heart & the straining in my lungs.
You were the bittersweet drug in my veins & the razorblade scars on my wrist.
I have you—you say for the long run
(“I’ll always want you.”)
But baby, this
“live fast
fall hard”
mentality is killing my sixteen years.
All I know is I want you…forever
but at the rate I’m going,
is there a point
in waiting around that long?
((I’m not talking about a breakup bby))
Be my nicotine wonderboy & I’ll be your heroin(e) whore.
All the while let’s pretend we’re in a fairytale & the pixie dust is making us fall in love, not fall apart. Between the sheets we find away to tell ourselves & each other that something matters, but in the end all broken dolls get thrown away.
[let’s just hope that first we both get s h a t t e r e d together, because I could never go on without you]








11 old applause
