Drugs and thugs
Nightmares and hugs
All we do is get ****** up
Maybe it's a turn of luck
We'll regret it later but I wanna live for now
It's just *** and makeout
Our lives are ******* fun

I'm sorry** that I hadn't met you sooner
I'm not sorry that I've met you now

I'm sorry that you feel pain from guilt
I'm not sorry that I pulled you in close

I'm sorry you don't know what happened
I'm not sorry you then kissed me back

I'm sorry that I don't want her to know
I'm not sorry that she doesn't know, now

I'm sorry you have a girlfriend
I'm not sorry for kissing you goodnight

I'm sorry you aren't single now
I'm not sorry I'll see you again, one night

and we went in your moms Honda
and i called you baby the whole way and
you loved it and
we spoke some deep ish for a while about the past rather than the future
we’re both afraid for what earth has in store for us
i reassured you that i have and always will love you
and then i touched a nerve
and you didn’t want to kiss me anymore

so i kinda just watched the moon past the hill
on a boulder
and looked at the city
as a couple ants started crawling up on one of my shoelaces



we both thought about how we could’ve been kissing already.
but we’re both somewhat stubborn so none of us brought it up.

so i walked down the stupid hill
as you played with your bracelet.

somehow all neighborhood tribes & tribe lords love you.
somehow you beat my score on the nickelcade spaced invaders.

we leap fences
in escape of party befouled
cops. crusaders
of mustache & veiny hate.

you rip your jeans
& lose your artifacts in the creek. into
convenience store warm lights
& makeout mixtapes.

sneak into my room
and crawl into my bed
you are tired
and i don't want to be alone
in the morning
we will leave in your car
you drive
while i look at you from the passenger seat
you like when i take photos of you
but i'd rather write about you
remember that parking lot behind the abandoned convenience store

i left home without telling my friends
they don't get it
you're always tired
and i have to fend for myself

i open the glove compartment of your car
a stack of photos
poems are written on the back
you remember the parking lot promise
the last photo is of that night before we left
with only a caption
"i don't want to let you down"

Deep breathing*
Dance
Polish off your *****
Dance
Jello shot
Stumble
Where are my friends?
Dance
Its so hot in here
Three more shots
I'm ******
Drunk
Makeout with a random guy
Ooo, there's wine
Two glasses
Black out
Throwing up in the sink
Friend is on the toilet peeing for the sixth time in the past hour
Makeup check
Compliment me or I'll complain
Dance
Grind on what appears to be a hot guy
Party Boy
Makeout
Wanna ****?
Climb to the roof
There's a couch
He's too drunk to get hard
What are fingers for?
Someone comes up
Your caught in the act
Embarrassed
He wants to take you home
You agree
Why?
You don't want to go home
Cigarette
Meet his friends
Blurred vision
Slurred speech
***
Terrible
Wake up
Headache
Nausea
Shower
Get home
Take better shower
Water
Sleep
Sleep
Sleep
Go to class
Wait until next weekend.

I want you.

I want to know your favorite color and your middle name.
I want to know about the people you hate and how you found out you loved women.

How do you make your sandwiches?
What foods do you like and can’t pronounce?
What places do you want to see and what words do you know but can’t explain the definition?

Can we cuddle?  
And by cuddle I don’t just mean lay on you, because trust me, I can do that without cuddling. By cuddling I mean let me hold you till you forget your problems and I finally stop talking.

I want to call you baby. I want to sit in a room, with you, listening to jazz music.

I want to feel your pulse and you feel mine,
I want to hear your heartbeat dance to the rhythm of the same songs on the corny playlist on Spotify I made that remind me of you.

The Special Playlist,
(I call it)
The Makeout Playlist,
(you do).

I want to only be about to hear our synced hearts
and the slow songs
and the weight of the world leaving our shoulders
plopping onto the floor with your worries
and the jacket I took off of you when you first came in.

I want you to tease me
because I significantly failed as a former lesbian
because I’ve never watched Orange is the New Black
or The L Word
“You’re not Lesbian certified”
You’ll tell me.

I want to speak to you
In my limited German vocabulary
and watch gay movies
and let you tease me even more
when you find out I can’t sit through *** scenes
even the really gay ones,
and ****** isn’t my thing.
It’s okay though,
Your laugh is cute.

And I want to kiss you.
I want to kiss you like
we’re those ***** *** teenagers
from Romeo and Juliet,
(but with a better ending).
I want to kiss you like
there’s nobody else in the world
And there aren’t people who hate me for liking you
And your family won’t care if you love me because
****,
I want to kiss you.

Let me buy you flowers,
and want to take you on dates.

Let me take you to McDonald’s
and order off the dollar menu because
I believe in treating my girl right
(And I get an employee discount)

let me tell you why I churches make me nervous
and how I don’t believe in God and
why I don’t like birthday parties
And how I want to have my cake and eat it too
Even though I hate cake
And prefer cupcakes,
But nothing is better than cake if that’s you.

I want you to know why I played trumpet for three years then switched to baritone,
I want to know if you’ve ever done drugs and how it felt.
What are your morals and values?
What’s your utopia?

I want to send you goodnight texts and spend hours talking about nothing
And dance offbeat with you because
neither of us could have rhythm to save our lives.
I’ll let you scream fight me when I let you win in games I would destroy you at because you get that goofy smile when you think you’ve won.

Introduce me to your family and I’ll show you mine.
Let me see your baby photos and we can see foreign movies on Netflix.
Let’s go out for coffee and ask deep questions.


I don’t care, okay?
I just want you.

I used to be wild
Drunk on my own newly discovered sensuality--and on Drink
Lemon Drops, and Pink *****-Droppers, and *** on the Beach,
and any fruity (sickeningly) mixed (sweet) drink anyone would hand me--but "no coconut!"
Laughing at my friends who were settling down
"You're all getting married, I'm just getting more awesome!"
Feeling so supremely alive
Flaunting my youth and vibrance like an obscure merit badge earned in Girl Scouts
(who would never condone by behavior, by the by)
Thin paper-plastic wristbands with Sharpie dates scrawled on them, and a tagline my only reminder of the night's events
"St. Patty's day"
"Brothers' last night"
"Makeout contest"... yeesh
Whole evenings, and weeks are now a blur, fuzzy from the alcohol? or just the passage of time?
Passing a particular apartment "I think I've been there before, once" and I struggle to remember how that night unfolded
A smile alights my face as some of it comes back, but not all of it; "Did that also happen that night, or was that another time...?"

And then a shift, in power, in gaze
Higher status, higher responsibilities
Higher shoes, (less *****)
The nipping and yapping one another, wearing down a trench around me
A Mother hen mantle settles on my shoulders (at least it's feathered)
And a jaded lens clouds my vision, sadly
My words about others, though never heard, would burn
Arrogant, downright Cruel, for a while
sigh
1am, that's enough for tonight
I'm tired
My bones hurt
I open tomorrow
The feathers are soft, yes, and choking
I look around, "What am I doing here?"
Ten percent of the people here make it worth my while
the rest...
Glitter cuts and scrapes my eyeballs, and I will wear the last vestiges to work tomorrow, no matter how hard I try
To rid myself of the testament to my night life

I want to do more
To Dance more, not police more
To allow more to explore more, and not to judge more
Everyone is worthwhile, and has something to offer
No longer compelled to define myself by the things that I do, or shove my newly-acquired identity in someone's face as means of introduction
To root out the real things that make me feel alive
And truth be told
I want to garden
laughs
I've never wanted to garden before
Wine and cheese with close friends, an adventure-date with my beloved
I'm alive because I'm living
Not because I've been going shot-for-shot for two hours with my best friend
But it's time for the next move
Whether you call it getting old, or settling down, or just "settling"
I call it settling in
To a cozy life I love, filled with only the people and things I love
Anything less, that's "settling"

Saturday's

Why are they so important?

Why do they mean so much?

Last Saturday I was at a bar talking to Canadians at a bachelor party--one of which bought me drinks all night and wanted to makeout with me.

The Saturday before that I went out with some friends I hadn't seen in a long time.

And before that, I went out with my friends to this area that had so many bars filled with people who drank themselves into stupors--kind of like I did the Saturday before that one.

I was dumped. So I drank--a lot I drank. That Saturday was a mess.

But tonight is Saturday and I didn't want to do anything, yet I felt like I should. So I did. I went to a friend's house to drink, but I didn't go out. I felt tipsy, I felt surrounded by friends, but I also felt sad.

He was out. He was happy. And he definitely was probably not sad.

But I was.

It's funny how break ups work--they make you question even the smallest things, like the purpose of Saturday's, ya know?

Cute, sweet boy
his eyes light up and gaze
yes, ******* gaze
like I'm some beautiful princess or wonderful mind
when you drunkenly look down into me
and it feels great
like I'm a human
your human
and I want you to wrap me up in your arms and tell me how you love things
maybe teach me some more guitar
tell me how I have the prettiest face and the blondest hair again
wait
why aren't you being so forward anymore?
This is the last time we will be together
why aren't you kissing me?
You tried the other night
I resisted
I was afraid:
of being a *****
of a kiss leading to more
but now I'm ready
I want the kiss and you're being a gentleman
you take me to my house and tuck me nicely in
then kiss me goodnight
just once and say see ya
I ask for another
you sigh and give in
but I want more
and more and more and more and more
until you're all gone
but what?
You left me
tucked up tightly so that I can't even chase after you
you're gone alright
never again to look into me like I'm great
never to make me feel special
I wanted you, you know
I looked forward to you
wanted you to touch me all over
would have made you feel like a stud
but no
I had my chance to fulfill my "needs"
and I acted like you owed me ****
like respect
I really just wanted to makeout
and cuddle
but no
I was afraid
and now you're gone
****
only **** boy to show interest
and now you'll only make my heart sad.