Friday, October 23, 2020

 

--I WROTE THAT FOR YOU, NOT FOR ME

 

 Sweet 16 in North Dakota

 

six speeds

on my bike

but I’m stuck

in this camper

butcher knife

beneath the blanket

hair’s too long

feathered like

a f(……) f(..)

they say

puka shells

strangling me like

a bleached rag

f(……) A

gotta run from

the cowboys

they beat the shit

out of gay boys

like me

the only thing

more blue

is wondering why

I’m alive when

I don’t wanna be

saw a triple feature

blonde chick

jumped me

back seat

bra off

hands-free

thought I didn’t

need her

thought I’d

be true

wrote a suicide

note to

my older self

tried to express

some sense of hope

but instead took

my first toke  

figured if it

was meant to be

I’d make it

past sixteen

and meet you

on the other side

so where are

you hiding

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