There are too many forgettable instances--
too often found, my rewriting of disjointed words.

Well,
you know.

I
 don't
  think
   about
     you

 At all.

I mean,
it's not like I compair
our knees
side-by-side in movie theatres
with our legs propped-up
two sets of punk rock shoes
dirty teenage so-and-so.

We're cute in that filthy
you'll-never-get-a-real-job-with-all-those-tattoos
sort of way.

Whatever.

"I could give two shits what your mom thinks",
you tell me.

I can't help but slip into a smile.

Liar.
I've seen you
turn into a hilarious mess
around the middle-aged.

Polite assumes your middle name.

It's a temporary
hold-the-door-open-please&thankyou-yes-mam crimescene
with the "what a nice young man" aftermath.

Your pseudo-intellectual garbage
will always get the better of you though, sweetface.

I've seen the empty bottles
sleeping on your floorboards.

I know you listen to shitty music and think of her.
I know about your failing anatomy--
Christ, you must complain about it
only a few thousand times a night.

Well,

I tell you to quit drinking- save your kidneys.
I tell you to quit smoking- save your lungs.
I tell you to quit speaking- save your breath,
so-on and so-forth, etcetera etcetera whatever,
You know I'll tell you every adjective under the sun
but I can't even begin to expel from my damp mouth

What
Really
Matters.

And Hey,
maybe it's because I know how much you love her,
& I wouldn't want to overstep the boundries of "friendship".
I mean, I've seen you, right?
jealous and flailing, upset and sulky.
I'll just laugh and tell you to stop being so angry, so emo.

Of course I know what caused it.
Of course I'd give anything to be the cause of it.
Of course I know
this will never,
ever
happen.

You're so gorgeous
you know it.
you know I know it.
you know everyone knows it.

Don't think I haven't seen
the way you walk,
talk,
even breathe.
...as if air was invented
for your sole consumption.

The word "whatever" comes to mind.

Sometimes I think you'd be a lot cuter,
if I just shot you in the face.

Bang.

10/28/2006

Author's Note: I'm a mess, baby. (For Jake)

note: I know the "cuter if i shot you in the face" thing is pretty unoriginal on my part but i can't get it out of my head. I guess think of it as a poem topic of sorts..

Posted on 10/29/2006
Copyright © 2024 Jolie Jordan