When we talk
We reckless teenagers
We rebels without causes
We James Deans of the world
We talk about wanted tattoos
"A 3 on my back"
"Wings"
"On my lip"
And piercings
"My nose"
"My belly button"
And alcohol
"Icelandic chocolate"
"Vodka"
"Whiskey"
Because we want to do the things
We can't
We're on the edge
The brink
Does that make us reckless?
Greedy?
Something to be laughed at?
It makes us human.
We're greedy.
We want to be different
So we sit in circles
And curse and drink
And play stupid games
Like truth or dare
Because we're reckless
And we talk about sex
Talk back to our parents
Because we worship sarcasm
And complain about how poor we are.
What else can you expect
From artsy
Reckless
Hipster
New York kids?