|
| |
Stand Back Out and Up
Empty bottles scattered across the linoleum floor
Just like the futile coke bags floating in your toilet bowl
Both still congested with the lost memories that occurred last night
Blacking out under the twilight
Stars crashing down on the rooftop
Where elitists stare unoriginal
Doesn’t bother me much
I’ll try and find their stash and share it with worthy list souls
Sh*tty party on repeat
Cliques tapping their feet simultaneously
Soaking in the sulfuric summer heat
Drinking and grinding your teeth
I wouldn’t trade any of these moments
Trying to remember what shoes I wore
What f*cking hat she had on
I want bottles and bags within my reach at all times
The best lines written went up my nose
Carved in my initials
Choking down piss warm beer with the knot in the back of your throat
Pour a shot
Make a toast
To your fruitful dissociation
And, ghost everyone
Recover your faculties in social isolation
Copyright ©
Jared Kent
|
|