generation me,
the selfie generation,
lazy,
selfish,
going nowhere,
mean,
reckless.

but what the 'great generation' and those who came before us don't understand,
is that we are a generation all our own,
akin to the hippies,
and radical youngsters in the 60s,
fighting against our parents in our own way.

we are owning ourselves and our bodies.
we are breaking free from their grasps
through our sexuality
our selfies
our words and our actions.

we are a generation who is owning ourselves and how we feel
we are revolutionary ourselves.

over filled radios
holy bedding &
i guess i'm yours now

i woke up wanting to kiss you
you woke up as a hurricane wanting to go home
producing half-felt emotions from the pit of our throats
in the morning we slid off each other, me first then you; fragments upon your bedroom floor
sinking into our clothing: you in my worn out sweater and me in your bed sheets
we nod each other good bye and sit through the day
mouthing i love yous 'til we go home alone

the stars crowned you theirs; gave a constellation as your crown and i don't think you're coming home just yet. up there it's just me, you, the cough syrup pacing in our veins and the tears we both know you're holding back;we went from scraping our knees to scraping the ice from our eyelashes. punching holes in the night sky and the sheets on your side of the bed have gone cold. in a few minutes i'll find you in the alleyway between your flat and mine; tucked away in a dumpster because you only matter in space