We’re standing on the roof
Drunk off cheap whiskey
Yelling obscenities
Sometime in the a.m.
Below us two girls are French kissing
They look so sweet in their blue jeans.
**** reality,
We're livin' the teenage dream.

I’m all for pretty girls getting drunk and making bad decisions at 2 am on a Saturday night
Tongue kissing, bodies pinned against the door, hot ***
To last no more than the night does.

The sun came up in the morning, yellow and bright
And me in her bathroom taking a ****
Thinking
And her still on her bed, awake, both hands on her forehead, eyes closed
Sinking.
What in the name of all that is holy had she done?

This was that same girl: the one who's always hated my guts,
Is repulsed by so much as someone mentioning my name
This was that same girl: buttoned up blouse and pressed trousers
Impeccable manners
Reserved demeanour
Innocent, sweet
What the hell had she just done?

I never liked her attitude
Never liked her friends
Never liked the way she looked at me,
Everything about her made me angry
Until the alcohol.
To me it was different girl
Different hair
Different lips, eyes
Different hips, stomach
Thighs,
Different everything.
To her it was simply a mistake.

In her bedroom I look around
A few pictures of some people I don’t know cut out from magazines and stuck on her walls
A couple of romance novels                                                              
A porcelain vase on her desk
With no flowers in it.
God knows I don’t belong here,
I really don’t.

The night before she'd told me she was bisexual
It just sort of slipped off her tongue,
I realised this when we got naked
Because she appeared gauche in front of my ****.
Kind of awkward but I didn’t mind,
All I wanted was to **** her
Hate **** her
All I wanted was for her to get on her knees
Me to hold her by her hair and ******* her
Into a coma.

Andrea Dworkin is turning in her grave right now,
She has ****** me to hell a thousand times
But I could care less,
I never felt such strong anger and deep pleasure at the same time,
It was glorious.
Just glorious.

She likes the way I paint pictures
With my words
So she painted one for me
With her brush.
She used mostly black, grey
And a lot of different reds.
It was a painting of a naked girl
Standing on a balcony
Of an old decrepit building.
There was something dark, something sinister
About the whole painting.
Maybe it was the choice of colours
Or the girl's dark, sullen eyes.
I don't know why I didn't ask anything,
Like, why is the girl naked?
It all seemed so weird to me
But now, somehow, it makes sense.

She asked me why I didn't have the feeling
The emotion
The passion
That I have in my poems
In real life.
I wanted to say because love doesn't make sense
And hate is frustrating
And happiness is fickle
And sadness is lonesome.
But I didn't, I just shrugged
And remained silent.

She asked me why I was so quiet,
I was nervous, I admit,
But I didn't tell her so
Instead, I told her I preferred to leave my words
To pen and paper.
She smiled and I did too,
There was nothing more to talk about.
Maybe we can kiss? I asked.
She laughed
Yea. Maybe we can kiss.

Now the painting hangs in my room
And I've taken a liking to art.

'The damaged loves the damaged.'
Chuck Palahnuik

I broke her heart once
And the pieces fell to the floor,
Scattered everywhere.

It was a mess,
But I collected every tiny bit
And tried to piece them together, like a puzzle
Carefully sticking the bits together
Wherever they would fit.

With all the bits glued, it looked like a mosaic.
The heart was now back to its original shape
But the cracks were visible
As a painful reminder
Of the past.

What a magnificent ruin it was,
I liked it.
I liked how very tragic it all looked.
Also, I think that's when I fell in love with her.

We were walking along a road
Hand in hand
Late afternoon
And in the near distance
A skinny brown dog was standing on the curb,
Sniffing the concrete
Tail wagging.
Impetuously, it decided to cross the road
As a speeding car was approaching-
Oh, it was ugly.

She let go of my hand
And buried her face in my shoulder,
Oh, God, no. Did you see it? No, no, no, no, no, no. Oh, God, no.
She wrapped her arms around me tight
And there I was
Listening to her slow, pain-stricken murmurs
And looking at the mangled pieces of flesh and bones,
A pool of blood rapidly building up around them.

What could I do? What would you do?
Because I just stood there, staring
Disbelief in my eyes,
Helplessness
In my palms.

Dark eyes
Black hair
Cigarette in hand
Tattoo on her neck
Right leg crossed
Over left.
Confidence,
Style.
Silent
But bold.

The type of girl you ****
And brag about.

The type of girl you ****
And eventually forget about.