[It’s not a love story if you only write the songs]

We angle down an alley at 3:00 am. There are five of them; young laughing one comes to me crouched with his arms stretched. Steps forward, picks me up by my thighs and twirls, around playful I laugh stop. He says something in Korean with a heart just kidding grins, sets me down. We laugh run away


[if anything it makes those feel a tad trite]

The mixed tape / friend first crush. Not everything beautiful / clutter with me rest of my life and plays a song for me. Probably / the smoker who does a coke shot on her own and falls in love with a sweet. Life is not a poem right? It’s what the world has been telling me for a long time.


[like the relationships I have with my blood]

I’ll just tell that to my imaginary. Friend and call it all coincidence. Like the time Chilies turned into a fist match in the car and I walked five miles home in flip flops. Dropped off across from the massacre theater. Imaginary friends, I didn’t have them then.


(a brain injury deal) just fucked) fakes I’m a paranoid bitch (cold fearful saint (I never knew lakes to be so accurate and uncomfortable


[god I hate bras]

Listen to a way to break down the uncomfortable. Nope it was the wasted redhead; she wants to be brunette. Self-awareness garage sales are the story of two little boy wolves and suicide. Honestly though, she objectifies me. What’s the balance I just want Mac stick blond on blond little fingers the song record hoop earrings noted customers in pink attitude and socks. I took the morning off the issue numbered my soul dipped in green drop earrings.


[we lived in a marina and made laundry and flower pots out of logs]

I was soaked. Had swam in shoes there but gotten my comforter and didn’t want to get it wet. He was carrying another identical, one that was much smaller and more expensive. He started talking to me and rubber tubes the kinds one gets when they are dying started drowning out of his mouth. He couldn’t keep them in so he tried to swallow them. His face turned into a scull held together with rubber bands you get at the dentist a machine of rubber holding his face together. He said apologies and that he had just slipped on some tuna outside.


(inner monologue shift (his head back and forth) to look away he discusses swimming in tennis shoes (he writes me and says if we keep winning games) will you promise to be ridiculous? The right dock had to ask a man at a storage unit to cross because they were located in a bridge across the water.

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