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Description
my big laugh and drunken grins
are beginning to become my signature
and getting wasted can only
last so long
but it beats getting baked in the afternoon
and sleeping till 2am
and i'm constantly thinking
crazy thoughts of you
(involving kerosine and matches with our bodies
burning and setting the night on fire)
and how i wish i could be as pretty
and as haunting as sylvia plath
but i just come off trashy and pathetic
and when you look at me with pity
i feel as if there is not enough make-up
in the world to make me beautiful
and i wish you'd sing songs to me from the bath
and i could read you my new poems
we could get loaded on gin and lay
naked in bed all day
on lazy sunny afternoons
and the breeze would blow through
our blue curtains
and i could count the freckles on your back