All these boys do is meet
behind the shed, 4:20 alert
dagger of the day climbing rocks
and making bets on their teams
pressing feet on gold coins
dropped from birch trees
and well trodden hills
Idiocy comes in many forms—

I join em and ignore the world
the cries replaying hundreds of time
during the daytime, night time,
onward.

what’s the news—
same old, fussing over holidays
open hand or closed fists
hear the noise on the staircase

what’s that?
christmas eve, just around the corner
you can see the sweet evanescence
in the hanging lights,

like colorful wreathes in our eyes
merciless even when November
is still here, nostalgia sweetens
my blood and melts me to sobbing song

put make up on for no one
and i hate it sometimes
how it portrays my femininity
sometimes i wanna be a sunflower
and there's a lot of time
to be spent dead
but we ain't got a lot of time
left to live

wore a dress for you
and i want to ride you
like your black car
shining in the cold winter Sun
tomorrow i'm myself
and hope i can score some dinner
scattering trust and money
because we have life
to spend like we're going broke

dreams drip and drop
saliva draped and daubed
across fine lips

the gallery of night
drawn curtains, unwoven robes
falling plump in the mist of a crush

want to be more than friends
before the kingdom of day
coldly sheds light in yellows and orange

HP is lame and filtering all my recent poems as explicit lol