they’re gonna buy you a big star. they’re going to listen, but never hear. they’re going to tell you they love you. they’re going to promise you the stars. they’re gonna make sure you’re worth every penny. they’re gonna fuck you and leave you. they’re going to depress the hell out of you and make you cry. they’re gonna hate your band. they’re going to stop, drop, then roll. they’re going to handle it all with style and grace. they’re gonna give credit where credit is due. they’re going to find the hidden meaning. they’re gonna dumb it down for the masses. they’re gonna deconstruct paradise. they’re going to make you wish you had thought of that. they’re going to wait until the fat lady sings. they’re going to make you wish you were never born. they’re gonna sell you buy the carton at $11.99/ea. they’re gonna make you look like a billion dollars. they’re going to stretch first so they don’t pull any muscles. they’re gonna jerk off under the covers. they’re gonna cum like a fountain. they’re gonna impress you with diction. they’re gonna make the devil blush. they’re gonna sit this one out. they’re gonna hit you where it hurts the most. they’re gonna love you more every day they know you, if you give them that little spark.

she said: i want to be with someone that makes me feel like we could survive peak oil together.

she said: pretend we are alone and nothing else matters.

she said: all i’ve got is ten dollars. is that enough?

she said: all i’ve got is one change of clothes.

she said: i need to know you’re with me on this.

she said: i run a real tight ship, and i don’t let just anyone on board.

she said: pretend we’re alone and nothing else matters.

she said: give me everything you’ve got. this is a stick-up.

you threw up your hands and swallowed hard.

she prayed the lord her soul to take.

he wished upon a star. he buried himself beneath the cliffs of dover.

she was airing out her dirty laundry.

she was calling you out on the floor.

she was throwing out the baby with the bathwater.

she was the smoking gun.

she was biting off more than she could chew.

she was running with the devil.

she was in a land before time, desperately trying to reunite with her mother.

she was making her bed to lie in it.

she was giving in to peer pressure.

she was gone, gone, gone with the wind.

she was building a bomb up in the room above her garage.

she was tempting every boy who had ever listened to pavement and liked it.

you just wanted to bend her into something that could love you.

you just wanted to be so fucking creative and beautiful that it hurt each time you breathed in.

she said: i need a baby before my womb dries up and i’m left bored and alone.

she told you she never wanted to be an afterthought, or a wallflower, or a pity fuck.

she said: i only wanted to believe in something real for once.

you liked tapping your feet to these beats.

she said: you never look me in the eyes when you fuck me.

it’s not that i don’t want to look at you, it’s that if i do i’m afraid i might cry.

she said: i’m not buying it, mister.

she said: if i woke up tomorrow and my face had melted off, down to the bone, would you still love me?

you said: i don’t know. i think so. but you never really know until you’re there, in the moment, you said.

she pulled down her underwear and asked if you if you wanted to go for a drive.

she said: all i want is for someone to text me at 4am and tell me they will never understand me the way i want them to, but they’ll love me all the same.

she said: god has a funny way of showing he cares.

she smeared her lipstick on your face and kissed your nose.

she said: sometimes i just want to be gross; stop shaving my legs. pee with the seat up. throw away my body wash. eat my boogers. leave my dishes piled up for weeks until i run out–then just go to target and buy some more. et cetera.

at that moment you figured she was just about the cutest thing on the face of the earth. more or less.

she said: listen, i don’t want any trouble here. i’m just passing through.

you thought you could see inside the sun if you looked hard enough, long enough. you thought your life was just about the least brilliant thing in the universe, but you were wrong. you were way off. you thought you were a whore, but it turns out you were pretty much like everyone else–your father just lied to you all these years. you thought your mother was fucking nuts, but it turns out she’s just really fucking lonely; and had this idea of motherhood in her mind when she was nineteen that turned out to be completely different than what she got. you thought you didn’t care–she was an asshole either way. you thought you could outrun the speed of light if you just had enough time here on earth. waking up in your kitchen sink again, you thought you might have a drinking problem. you thought you were a bug on the windshield, being wiped clean and tossed aside without anyone ever stopping to notice. you thought you could fuck her better than anyone else could ever fuck her, but you were way off on that, too. she’d been fucking her boss for month’s now, you realized, so it couldn’t have been that great, you guessed. you thought you were a fly on the wall. you thought you could have been a gymnast if you had only tried once to hop on the pommel horse. you thought you could have gotten away with the lie, if not for those meddling teens. you thought you would get your revenge someday. between you and me, you need to give it up, man. you thought you were an excellent writer, pouring out all those witty quips, bringing all those colorful characters to life (jimmy, the barkeep; timmy, the salty seaman, for example), describing those scenes so well with that pen of yours, really making us care about your protagonist, embellishing that beautiful prose with such ease and grace; but it turned out you were just as irrelevant and boring as the next guy in the coffee shop, masturbating to the image of his own self-importance.

okay, i’m not writing exclusively about dicks and pussy’s anymore.

it was fun while it lasted, though.