If you're into reading lies
call me I've got a book.
Big thick fucker too, nevermind
what it's about.
It was 94 and Cobain had just died,
my dad was knocking golf balls around the yard,
from my treehouse I saw him hit one through the window
of his Mustang.
But up here I sat confused.
Cindy Crawford collages were kept neatly in my "secret"
folder.
And I collected my favorite rocks in Dad's leftover
Crown Royal bags.
I convinced 3 girls to come back here with me.
1 I just needed a friend.
1 I fingered and moved away the next day without telling her, all while we were dating.
1 took the liberty to be such a prude in the woods and 2 weeks later after a party she broke into my house, hid in my closet, called me from my home phone and asked if I could come over.
She was hopping in a cab when I arrived.
No one has seen or heard from her since.
I could still smell her on the bus in the morning, and her parents asked me all these questions when I got home. All I could see in my head were her lips drowning my cock and her mouth spinning like a helicopter round and round.

04/01/2009

Posted on 04/01/2009
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