I really wanted to say something beautiful
But I’m thinking of elephants, and horses, and money
Do you really want to hear me talk about how hard it is to cook rice?
What do I do when I’m left with myself?
What do you do in the nothing time between?
How do you go about having a life?
When did you get blood on your hands you offensive fuck?
Where is your mother?
‘How did you get down there?’
You probably don’t remember
But I do.
It wasn’t on the back of a motorbike with a guitar in your hand
(Like you tell people when you’re drunk)
I know that your mother drove you in her Honda Civic
And I know that you cried when she left
That you hated your place
Because you were too poor to get furniture
How did you get the job at the club?
Did you slip him a fifty or just blow him under the bar?
See, I’m already editing
‘What should follow next?’
‘I need to know the next step’
Because I’m fucked if use the word ‘bar’ twice in one line
I cheated
I changed it to ‘club’
There was a time when I didn’t imbue everything I did with half-assery and spite
Who wants to read about my fuck-ups and failings
when there are so many stories inside of me that the longing creates
Alternate realities where I don’t just stay in one place
I imagine I once was talented
Or at least deluded enough to believe that I was
No emotion girly, no fire, take it out
Focus on your legs and your body
I don’t want to see your face and your long, long hair
Cut it off
No one likes it
‘But I don’t even notice you anymore’
Truly, yes truly I want to be sweet
With the cupcakes and obedience
In my head this is a country song
Sung long and slow
In the voice of the woman I sometimes pretend to be
I cheated again
It originally said ‘a’
xoxo
More writing, writing, writing for uni. This came from a free-writing exercise and probably only makes sense in that context.
