but let's talk about you for a minute, with the vomit at yr gullet, from a half-bottle of vodka that we'd stolen from the optic, on the backseat of your car, cause it wasn't safe to start, you were "far too fucked to drive" were the words that you imparted, and the woolen dress that clung so tight to the contours of your body, and the dead grass stuck to fibers from us rolling in the layby, were passed to dog-haired blankets that protected bench seat covers, and a crucifix was hung from the rear-view mirror by yr mother
this song feels like a stake in the chest, it’s tough to hear a song that’s exactly like how you’re feeling. especially when you’re feeling shitty. but at least this is hopeful/pleasant, even if it’s depressingly relatable.
I go get cereal in the cafeteria, too much comes, and I have a really big bowl of fruitloops. And it isn’t bad, because I like fruitloops. But then I find out there isn’t any skim or 2% milk left, and only chocolate milk. So it’s like, do I eat it dry or with water or what? But then I get chocolate milk in my fruitloops and I go back to my table. And by that point I’m like “what the fuck am I doing?” Fuck cereal.
"I’m going to jump the walls and run. i wonder if they’ll miss me? i won’t miss them. the cemetery is my home, i want to be apart of it, invisible even to the night. then i’ll read poetry to the stones, maybe one day I’ll be one of them, wise and silent. waiting for someone to love me. waiting for someone to kiss me. i’m fifteen years old and i feel it’s already too late to live. don’t you?"