chocolate and vanilla cookies, starved. i sit surrounded by girls, talking in code names about their boys, names like "tomato" "al" and "sauce". girls whose parties get broken up by the police, they laugh about that. we make the prettiest valentine's day cards though, and the pink and the red and white chokes.

this is my life, i remember. and i.m dying one second at a time.

"nicest girl. her and morgan. i hate nice people!" is what they said today. they take me into their confidence. i can listen, and laugh, and if i really love you. worry just a little. you like that, i bet. they pat me on the back, they make up funny nicknames for me but it.s not the way when you.re talking shit.

girls who talk shit. i am surrounded by them 24/7 and have wiggled my way out of it all by blurring my vision to them and sharpening my pencils instead// (get it?) straight lines, biding time.

this elite circle within this sport. take notes kid, cause when you score the goals, no one messes with you.

(this is explaining what doesn.t matter anyways. a long sigh, a sunburn in the dark, one more cup of coffee, a drive down the summer streets. remember these instead.)


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