(no subject)
we were headed towards lives of trechary writing what we thought was poetry. our chemical compositions contained everything but the chemicals and we never thought they would. bored of barbies we were growing up too fast. trying too hard to be the same as everyone else, trying so hard to blend into the caked foundation, glossed lips and shaky hands fumbling cigarrettes, fishnet stockings and miniskirts, put the sedans into cruise control. we knew we were so young, thought we were in control of being out of control and that was enough to get us through the day. slamming doors for the first time like it was nobody's business and walking made us feel independent but it was really just the same neighborhood.
can't this stop? can't this stop? hold the rails; let them go. there's no fire escapes on our suburban homes. because our houses burn from the inside to out. and the most we can do is to let them die out. we're a breed of our own, we've no league of our own. we've only our driveways to smoke our homegrown.♥
can't this stop? can't this stop? hold the rails; let them go. there's no fire escapes on our suburban homes. because our houses burn from the inside to out. and the most we can do is to let them die out. we're a breed of our own, we've no league of our own. we've only our driveways to smoke our homegrown.♥