the kind of girl your parents won’t approve of-
bony kneed with dollar store colors in her hair
crazy eyed- the kind of girl that would lie
while telling you secrets and pretending they’re scars
speaking in spaghetti for dinner, gluten free
takes the handful of change and keeps it
spitting on parking metres and acts as if
sipping cough syrup and swallowing your ***
(you love her sticky palms)
was enough to survive suburbia
the kind of girl that writes your address under her lips
so she can find her way home after tequila and tacos
and keep your initials wet all the time