Polite Dance Song.

I want to rub between your thighs

And blow kisses right between your eyes

And take you places that you've never been to

The Ten Courts of Hell informed me that

I could expect to be flung onto a tree of knives

and have my heart ripped out

when I die.

Nice.

I think I'm coming along nicely,

I went along with climbing over gates into

dark abandoned buildings at two in the morning,

and walking home under a whole sidewalk of

tall trees alone,

without a twinge of fear.

I will not be afraid.

*

Sitting in the middle of the road,

watching you smoke a cigarette,

whiling away the early hours of the new morning,

together.

It would be really difficult

when you go away to college,

and leave me here on my tiny island,

feeling restless on hot days at four in the afternoon,

terribly alone past the hours when I should be asleep

but can't close my eyes long enough,

and having a tough time finding a reason to roll out of bed

in the morning.

I can't get away.

I feel awfully strange in front of the mirror

sometimes, like this body that I'm pinching at

doesn't belong to me.

Being alone does a number on me sometimes.

Maybe it's just the odd sleeping hours

and the loss of any normal concept of time.

It feels like seventeen would be going on forever.

Hey pea, we were playing.

Okay so yeah it's cool,

cause we're like, adventurers.

We are adventuring,

we are adventurers.

Castles and causeways and long stays and highways.

*

Field trip to the science centre today :D

Restless night now, perhaps

the return to school would be good

for my festering brain.

Pretty as a car crash.

I want you in all my photographs,

in the good ones,

in the ugly ones,

in the ones where we're young and stupid,

in the ones where we're old and stupid.

I want your time, and your hands,

your happiness so I can share it,

your sadness so I can absorb it,

your eyes on me,

your lips on mine.

*

We've got no anniversaries or month-aversaries

or whatever it is that people are doing today.

I think I will celebrate every day instead.

Dead to the world.

New York, the city that never sleeps.

*

Who more do I need than a cat who

sleeps at the foot of my bed

[okay, not really mine],

a boy who calls when he says he would

and doesn't make me doubt him the least bit,

friends who are waiting for me to get home

and eat naan or go on wild trips in the car

or just flop in corners with?

A brief reprise from my regular life

is cool now and then,

maybe I could even live in a whole different

country for a year or two,

but seriously,

I don't ask for very much more.

I've already got a lot going on for me.

Home in basically three days.

I yearn for phone calls, warm nights,

bare feet, street lights on dashboards,

using kok and stoop in

daily conversation with said friends,

burrowing into blankets with said boy.

Hey Hey, Little Razorblade.

Driving around seeing all the college kids,

stepping out of little hole-in-the-wall places

for a cigarette,

sitting in brightly-lit cafes with cute names,

enjoying their saturday night in Harvard Square

and the nearby streets.

I'm saving all the Dollar-a-pound clothing stores,

tiny ratty record shops [with imports! lol],

and pretty places with ridiculously over-priced coffee

for when I can come with someone

who doesn't mind spending ages in just one

place, rifling through the junk with me,

going down the street with no real

intended destination.

Zolof & The Pink Spiders,

for just ten dollars.

Zolof was a fun and cute explosion,

and The Pink Spiders' songs don't lie,

they drank beer and shots onstage,

and played furiously.

I got myself some tasty synths, guitar riffs and

an eyeful of the bands that I <3.

Although at the beginning,

I just had to open my mouth to the door bitch

who looked strangely like Andy Dick,

then insert my foot there when I

exposed what a dork I am to him

and his 'I-am-so-punk-man" flunky.

So I was trying to be inconspicuous by the bar

until Zolof came on, then all the geeks emerged

on the floor and I was not alone.

But still, that hurt. I really thought

that I had left that behind at 14.

I had fun but it was kind of sad to see

these awesome bands play such a small venue

when all those shit bands on MTV get to fly first class

to the next sold-out stadium they're going to play at,

then go on 2 hours late?

Then I see all the kids crowding around Rachel at the bar,

and I see how she looked genuinely happy

and talked to every single one of them.

How they tried to get the best sound possible

instead of just playing their set and walking away.

And then I think maybe this is so much better.