“When I see a pretty girl walking down the street I think two things. One part of me wants to take her out and talk to her and be real nice and sweet and treat her right. The other part of me wonders what her head would look like on a stick.”
“I was about half in love with her by the time we sat down. That’s the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty, even if they’re not much to look at, or even if they’re sort of stupid, you fall half in love with them and then you never know where the hell you are. Girls. Jesus Christ. They can drive you crazy. They really can.”
The world grinds to a halt,
Something missing, something important.
Young boy runs for the bus.
Breathes out, a stitch.
Sits next to his friend Pueblo,
Smiles and looks out the window.
His brother meanwhile sits at home alone,
Wondering what happened to his life.
Plays Guns N Roses and puts a gun to his head.
Live and let die.
His mother comes home and finds the body.
Pueblo doesnt flinch when beaten in the playground.
Time ticks on and does not feel the drama of the day.
Is he weak for not giving up the thrills?
His weakness is right there on his face.
Can you give up your TV trash,
Or put away those chocolate treats?
It’s all the same.
He can’t stop hurting,
It is judgement day every day.
Long sleeves for the summer.
The clock ticks
Nothing ever changes.
One day we will all stroll in the sun,
One day this will all become clear.
Until then, inhale, exhale.
It’s going to be okay.