I want someone who loves Laurel Canyon like Tori does,
knows who Joni Mitchell is,
and goes for hikes in the summer up Mount Hollywood Drive, little thought of the heat.
Brings me coffee to the nightstand, never goes to the nightclub,
watches sunsets from the pier’s end and adores bleeding hearts.
Like this Max I’ve crushed on for some time, but he’s over the mountains.
I don’t let that get over my head, he’s really cute when he stutters
and the **** he posts gives me butterflies.
But I’m hung up on Juan, I think he’s the one, but he doesn’t yet know about my poems.
Bry David wanted money, Ian wanted something I couldn’t provide.
Something about these guys made me numb to the oceanic continent divide.
Nothing I can specify made me dumb for somebody fraudulently divine.
Patrick is so ******* cute that every time I see him I risk falling in love,
but he’s like a bath in winter.
There was Dan, but I lost interest and there’s someone else.
He’s kinda cute too, but I’m good smelling flowers at Point Dume, reply asap when he texts me.

I’m out the tunnel now,
I want the opposite of what I wanted.
Think I’ll dye my hair brown
just to differ even more from old me.
Smelling bleeding hearts
and it’s very ironic that I’m better off
without him than with him
no one specific.
It’s just if you don’t play with fire you can’t burn yourself.
And I want a boyfriend but I like sleeping alone in my bed.

Only light the room up when you come in.
Spit whatever nonsense you want, say it American.
I’ve no type I think.
Long as he lights the room up, like a firework star.
My first fourth of July was in Los Angeles.
But I’ve only danced with devils wearing halos on their heads.
I need him to light that **** up, sparks ablaze.
I like being lonely and bleeding hearts, but I want to take
someone to Griffith Park at dusk
rate my love song ten stars
**** me ******* off the drive
listen to me rant about my life
buy me coca cola in the night
take a trip down memory lane to 2019 cause I
miss who I was but I love me now
I was so much better, too young to need love.
Not a wasteland replanted yet, but something lush, not too avid, cause that I never was.
Wish you had the pleasure of meeting me then.
Wish I could meet you now, but I don’t know.
I’m still not paranoid.