Some girls get personally offended that I don't wear thongs to hip-hop class
Girls
girls
Girlworld

I live in a small town with even smaller minded people
Where the women never blossom into swans
Just fairly racist chickens
And the men stick around long enough to wean their boys on alcohol and guns and then they leave with the son's respect for women
And their daughters hope for men

I want to paint my room
Yellow, or gray, or blue
Anything but this purple
I want to paint over the galaxy I wrote for you

I wear boxer shorts to bed
They're stolen from the first time I laid my hand on a woman
The first time I tasted alcohol
She was wearing them when I tasted her
I took them to remind myself
These things actually happen
That I am allowed to feel
That my wild side need not be confined

When I was young I fought so hard to be living
At least, I thought I did
But I didn't really
It's impossible to fight smoke
Or cigar ash
Or shoelaces
Or the rainbow liquid dripping out of the bottom of the blue suburban

The truth is
And has always been
I'm not sure of what I am supposed to be fighting
Is it the girls?
The money?
The standards?
The lonely?
There is only one thing I will ever be sure of about life

And that is that now,

I enjoy it.

sometimes i need to sleep,
and my words will get misspelled,
and my head with get wavy,
and my music will surround me.

i'll get this high that i've never felt,
and it lets me live, momentarily.
it gives me meaning to my life.

the separate reality that is sleep deprivation
that makes me see spots in my vision,
and makes me stumble,
and makes me appreciate the music distracting me
from the problems of my day.

the sleepy texts i send before my eyes close for a few hours,
knowing i'd have to be awake sooner or later.
i find myself taking naps that i call rest
because no one cares enough to see the bags under my eyes.

or how puffy and red they are.
or the scars on my body growing more and more prominent.
or the way my smile seems forced.

no one sees me.
and i think that's okay.