8.1.14

I could love another day
The sun sets over the hills of La
And I'm teetering between
Myself and warm hands held in the winter
A sweet faced boy sings karaoke 
Because we were drunk and screaming in the microphone, anyway. 
And thank god that we're in a city again. 
Because wrecking havoc in Santa Cruz doesn't count. 

We spilled peanut butter everywhere
And drowned in howls of laughter that left the others baffled in confusion
But how the fuck do you clean that shit off of fabric 

I'm so in love that I want to slice your heads off. 
And squeeze you until your eyes pop out of your heads
I want to punch those goober smiles off your fucking faces because it makes me feel so good that I'm going to explode all of my organs into one big gloop of glop. 

The sky might be soaked in gasoline and pollution from superficial spray tans floating up to the clouds that hold every lie Los Angeles has told. 
But the sunset is something I want to swallow whole. 
Like the hit of my favorite strain that makes me suck on my lips and ease back in my smile that widens as deep as I slept on the sofa couch. 
Where I woke to all of your bouncing big booties, I never got out of bed so fast. 

And he admitted that he's loved me since he met me. 
Which explains the silent stares we shared, I just didn't understand. 
Give him my ring to rememba me cleva. 
Charlie sings Abba in my mind foreva.  

The lift folks don't care about tha numba, they pick up this drunken herd, and we've got one in the front and five in the back, two lying on top of everyone, but don't let the cops see, okay. 

I thought I'd run into the only person that I ever loved by now.  
The only lucid dreams I have at this point, he's on his knees begging, and I don't really understand how I can feel so empty and soulless when I look at him but still want to cure his pain, just not through loving him again. 

But the emptiness inside of me has changed. 
I don't have the ability to express vulnerability or create that human emotion that loves another's morning breath and bags under their sleepy eyes and eats the shitty scrambled eggs they made, but damn they're delicious because I think you're delicious. 
But I love myself and my friends so much that I want to kill them. 

And thank you for giving me all of this, California. 

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