polite remarks, dirty thoughts

her doing nothing around the house at all

her after a shower vibing in a tee & underwear

her… her… her…

she’s smoking on the balcony again

she’s dying in designer again

she’s killing me again & again & again

pink roses in her vase, cute lace design of her bra

polite remarks, dirty thoughts

water drips down

girls break me down

ennui of living on the daily

she gets me out of my head

girl in the tight black jeans

girl in the white tee & black boots

girl from yesterday, girl from forever ago

never grow tired from looking her way

she is my bible, my spiritual north

look at me like you hate me

kiss me like you’re in love with me

we smoke out in our beat up blue jeans

quick fuck & we’re off to wherever

her scent on my sweatshirt

her lipstick on a cigarette butt in the ashtray

girls are pure poetry, i’m jus scum of the earth

living on next to nothing, living for something

the girls in their converse & summer dresses

the whiskey girls & cigarette daydreams

the nights that never end

key bumps & margaritas

Xanax & breakfast mimosas

magazines on the coffee table

her butt poking outta her high waisted jean shorts

the drugs did their damage

girls got me fucked up

a country song comes on at the bar

we all drink to the best & worst of times

i’m smoking quickly out by the little street corner

a little tipsy, slightly lightheaded

ready for some action, used to nothing happening

smooth enough, dumb enough, cool enough

she’ll destroy me, i like being demolished

maybe i hate myself

she kinda hates me, but she kinda loves me too

maybe she’s bad for me, maybe it’s good

this will hurt the next morning

worth it… the pain, the pleasure, the masochism

good girl… she could do whatever she wants

shit goes both ways

feelings a little more complex

i try not to get caught up

they’re all cute, i’m jus all but dead by my lonely

a tattoo needle deep in my skin tissue is the cure

in my healing era working on myself

a good little fuck helps from time to time though

here we go again, back at the same old game

& i’m really jus by myself writing my life away

reading whatever i could get my hands on

listening to old records & songs that always hit

going to the gym & corner store

pretending like shit don’t matter

like music & girls isn’t the only reason we breathe

kill me so slowly

blade of your sword in my back

thorn of your cute little roses cutting in my chest

you could be good, you could be bad

you could be pure hearted, you could be toxic

you could be whatever

i’ll be your little black hearted suicide boy

i’ll die inside & leave my heart & soul with you