-Slightly sadistic 17-year-old girl seeks suitable mate
Re: matters of dystopic fantasties
- A cannibalistic companion, mayhaps
to soothe lingering curiosities held captive by the bright red and steady rhythm of dripping blood
Disclaimer: this advertisement (pronounced ad-vur-tiz-ment) is not a cry for help - but next week's definitely will be
"Hi, I'm not usually like this, I haven't really done this sort of thing before, but..."
thinking to self I would like to carefully extract your organs and construct a small fortress out of them. I would like to staple your mouth to my mouth. I would-
"Oh, what? No, I didn't say anything."
- I'm imagining you as more of a shadow, all tangible beings seem bleak to me - but could you still hold my hand???
"Yes, it's lovely outside. Beautiful weather."
- But when we venture outside its proven that our eyes are much too sensitive for the light and inside beckons as much cooler and safer, inside of me is dangerous - and inside of you is an inferno



(Please set me on fire)

All you are supposed to be is a change of scenery
(i've been here for four years, i've been me for seventeen)
Door opens to backpack skateboard and "I haven't showered in two weeks"
(i haven't slept in three)
Don't ask me what happened this isn't catching up
(how are you)
Show me what, I don't know
(you don't know either)
I laugh when I'm nervous
(what are you thinking)
(are you even a real girl)
(i dont think you are)
I am looking for a future in the back of a crystal ball bald head
(my band and i, we did it as a joke)
Instead give way to eight consecutive marks - neck, left shoulder, chest
(just like Hawaii, a place i have already been to, and you have not)
Come back
(where do you even go to)
You are a pop punk house show in a small town on a 97 degree Fahrenheit day in August in the basement of a friend of a friend whom I haven't seen since
Grade 9
(when i first heard of you)
Let me pretend that I'm drunk so you can pretend you didn't come here for this
(are you sure, i don't even have a ******)
Leave at 9 o clock to make way for my 9:30
(stay another eight hours to **** with my head)
A triple kick-flick on a scorching Midwestern sidewalk
(teach me how and leave)
Prove you weren't as far off as i needed you to be
(it's only an hour if nothing comes up)

You are a tiny person alone in a big house
(Two rainy hours away)
Maybe someone else can differentiate you from your peers but i cannot
(Will there be girls like you?)
These things, they take time
(Which there is very little of)
I do not deserve you, you do not deserve this
(Do I make you unhappy?)
Stranger's dogs and filtered water from a refrigerator door in a small town remembered for what it never had or will have
(Human beings were not meant for this)
You say you can imagine China stretching out from a spot behind my head
(Me, who has never even been on an airplane)
Why are you here / who are you / what is this
(How are us)
The bus comes at 10:15 but I will be gone long before
(Light years away, you cannot make me stay)
There are no drugs and there are not other boys but
(But there is the music and there are the other girls)
I am not as young and naive as yourself but I am just as bitter
(Loosely interpreted emptiness floating within pale irises)
Part of you belongs to a place unto which I will not return
(State, county, city, suburb)
Part of you belongs to me
(I will not return)

backdrop distends
1. Nine-pane white window woman boasts bellyfull of central air
2. Sneaky sunshine sheets smothering soft sugarplums, sleepy eyes still hung with chandeliers exchange shy glances with a new world hiding behind a
3. Cheerful and robust pink mother waves goodbye to foggy ghost-cold who dangles ten frigid and grainy fingers over tiny tired schoolgirl
4. Black metal wings stretch and return to position while groggy black engine awakes to serve thirty-five malnourished miles
5. Bellyfull of central air scoops up groggy black engine both sneak into smothering sunshine sheets that envelope tiny tired schoolgirl
fade to white