READY AND WILLING
I'm already getting tired of this so there's nothing to hold my breath for or get dressed for.
Nothing to rehearse for 'cos his button up shirts make me too nervous to pretend he'll be cool about it.
I don't feel like changing batteries and emptying out old memory and clicking pushing focusing
I'm sick of doing everything.
We sleep. I don't watch the time. We read books about blond girls described as perfect even with overcrowded teeth and sack shaped dresses. I like to pretend I've known more boys. But everything is always past tense 'cos never ever will we take chances. We are scared and we play by rules.
If you sit up straight while you sleep you won't look so much like you stayed up all night.
Also, drink coffee and don't talk to anyone, just look in your purse mirror and get ready for nothin'.
I'm in the mood for shades of grey roads and buying more clothes and the Postal Service giving out the illusion of love.
I remember in August before school when you called me and casually mentioned how that one guy was back after we all thought he had left for good.
I was so scared, I was so happy.
I was so fucking scared.
I remember being in between laughing and crying that whole day.
Press on your stomach, hold everything in and then you feel a little closer it's a little later and he's a little colder. Breathe heavy, close your eyes.
"I'm ready" I tell myself.
I'll wear my hair in curls and say with a twist and a wink "you don't have to do anything about it...
But I want you to."