I made out with 5 people

Mum reads my sister's blog.
Thinks she's a genius because she has a blog.
The only thing she says to me is how my underwear is constantly peeking out of my pants.
I've already told her:
Eff off.

I wear ankle weights.
I am not interested in boys with discounted liquor.
One-and-a-half pounds seems like too little, but I will take it and run.
Two more weeks of hard labour and...

Californ-i-a, here I come!

Hopefully by fall I'll be long gone to Hong Kong,
and we'll forget all about each other and everyone else.
Start fresh.
Get gone.
Now is the time.

News to me:
I may still be in love with the idea of him,
mostly because he held his own.
A boy must be fascinating, not (visibly) fascinated by me.
I watched you take notes and pick at the carpet and make stupid faces to yourself.

Coffee, pills,
pills, coffee,
oatmeal,
crystal light,
tuna croquettes,
cod,
oh my god,
doppio espresso!

Where does the time go?

I'll take my cleavage to the stars,
and when we've arrived,
we're going to build ourself a home of styx and rolling stones.


We're all too afraid of love to understand.
Only boys grow into men.