it doesn't matter that his plans and my plans were once our plans...

the hem had moved from her knee to her hip, with little left to the imagination. she'd thrown up on the sidewalk outside the majestic. the lights were on and her keys locked in the car. we were standing outside the majestic, some smoking, attempting to find a distraction of some sort in the city in which we were strangers. they asked our help. we're not good people, mind you...we just have exceedingly loud consciences at times. she smoked a clove to get the acid taste out of her mouth. i took one and breathed the smoke in through my nose. we sat on the pavement by their car, waiting. they were strange people. perhaps because they were normal...the kind of normal jokes are made about. it was interesting to realize how different my friends and i are. not just different looking...but different. something elementally different from "the world" or "society" if you will. anyway, we stood there, then sat, leaned, and stood again; waiting for the arrival of AAA. We'd lied and said we had been riding with them. Better than them sleeping in the park i suppose.



it doesnt matter than his plans and my plans were once our plans...
i dont believe in being in love anymore.
i believe in pain
and an ache in that red fist
pounding away beneath my breastbone
and wanting to be with someone
when you cant stand them
just to be next to them
i believe in cynicism
sarcasm
and shitty cars,
betrayal
and wanting to believe so badly
that you sell yourself
to people who just want something
to shove their dick in,
or kids who would say yes
to a whatevernumber-some
to be accepted
to be loved.

love is a terrible lie
told by hollywood
there's something so much bigger
than being in love
or in lust.
i'm sick of it

i believe in two people
working hard
not giving up
or giving in
i believe in maturity
and strength
and the confidence i get
around the people
who used to intimidate me.
they are real
i havent seen real
in so long...