Let's be rad and dance.

We're a youth involved in books of faces and denoting which space is ours. We're going to jail for possessing. We're youth? No, we're drugged. Call me when our kids are grown, dead and gone, and their children have the chance to not screw everything up.

Youth is a billboard with a black eye and busted lip. I tried. We're not stopping, we're speeding through the trees. We've got heat in the trunk and yellow winds creeping through the creak-ed windows. It's more aerodynamic than we expect.

Bandwagons have comfy seats, she says, but I think I'll catch the next one. Or I'll walk to the destination and save us all the trouble, thanks.

Unchallenged. In every degree, we're living without rules because it's true, dear, that "no one loves you in winter." Thought? If everyone's being unique, it isn't unique anymore. Grab a dictionary. or a razor, they're on sale.

You're living my life in rewind. You have my friends, my school, my spot, my vacation, my words, my thoughts. I'm sick of sharing with you. So we're not "gonna" be friends anymore. I'm giving up March and time for lent, and you're just gorging yourself. It's joust, it's jest, it isn't funny so give it a rest.

Gorgonic. With poems on telephone poles and I'm a hippie or a graffiti artist, either way, it's bold or frank or unruly. The point was a 50, and I'm four points from the feast.

And the bangs are so long, the eyes can't see for crap. lovely. I'll just shut my mouth and tear some paper for pay. A monkey could do this... and probably more accurately. Nimble, finicky, heart of darkness, and a test? I'm working Sunday, let's dance. It's boogey and disco and apparently the newest "rage." jesus, what an age. Our future is looking pretty dim.

What's a hammer doing taped up to our wall? That's gaul or gumption or function? We're nailed, anyways. I've been boned by CVS. congrats.

Mariah to ground control, major Tom got us fucking lost. navigation, ever been to rocket school? Tin can? more like an endless wasteland of misery. Also known as Orlando. Asshole. What did you do with my step? It's missing. You better bring that back right now or I'm exclamation-pointing your vials, got that clear? nicely nicely, and precisely. We're fear.

less, I guess.