I remember back to those schoolgirl days,
but now our ribs stick out of place.
Hair wrapped in ribbon,
boots laced in rebellion,
and under our eyes lay old bean bag chairs worn out from years of being walked all over and sat on.
But we are not dilapidated,
We are not a house caving in on itself.
We are cold pizza and black coffee.
And you’re an a**hole,
but we’re all a**holes,
so get over yourself.
And realize we live in a house made of each other,
that we are the framework of change.
But I hope you think about this when you’re sitting in the shower letting the water run over you for half an hour because you can’t stand to face the mirror outside the stall.
You can’t stand to see yourself or those signatures on your skin signed by memories.
So go crazy and beat something up and yell and throw things and be aggressive and angry
but we only do that because we’re “desensitized to violence” and bad with emotions, right?
And don’t forget, you have a stomach.
And so do all the rest of us.
And we will only take so much s*** shoved down our throats before we puke it back up as
bullets.
And we’ll use them to kill everyone who didn't think we could change the world,
and then,