And I am a vegetarian.
I'm not straightedge,
and I don't wear tight pants.
My socks go up to my knees,
and my nails are long and black.
I can't swim,
I can't dance,
and I don't know karate.
I'm never gonna make it.
I dance in front of the mirror,
and sing into the hairdryer.
I wear lots of eye makeup,
and I am very insecure.
I'm always cold,
and always chewing gum.
I have a lip ring on the left side,
and I love my friends.
My nickname at school is creep,
and I have several lunchboxes.
I have black bedsheets,
and I sleep with a stuffed lion named Mohawk.
My walls are covered with pictures,
and posters,
and I sleep to music.
I don't like to eat,
But I really like acoustic songs.
I have glasses but I don't wear them,
and I think speech impediments are cute.
I hate the phone,
and I love lipgloss.
I like cheerios,
and spiderman boy briefs.
I write poetry,
but never show anyone.
I couldn't live without hairspray,
and eyeliner.
I don't chew my nails,
but I do swear alot.
I can't keep my mouth shut,
and I don't know how to tie my shoes.
If you ignore me,
I'll get very mad at you.
I can't ever sit still,
and I don't pay attention.
I like to sleep,
though it seems I never get any.
I like fake guns,
and I straighten my hair alot.
I hate body hair,
but I love body heat.
I'll listen to a song all day,
even if it means sitting in my cold basement on the computer.
I like plaid, and stripes,
and I have skinny legs.
I like to skip class,
and glowsticks.
Empty pop cans,
and half empty glasses of water.
I'll dress myself up,
even if I have nowhere to go.
I hate it when you touch my hair,
I'm physically weak,
as well as emotional.
I love stickers,
and I hate the sound of velcro.
Don't touch me when I'm mad,
Or I'll punch you in the throat.
If you talk in the theater,
I'll yell at you.
If I'm craving attention,
I'll do anything to get it.
If you stare at me,
I'll get freaked out.
I want blue eyes,
and longer eyelashes.
I like to run outside in my underwear,
and hit pudding packets with hammers.
I almost never finish a can of pop,
and my socks almost always match.
I hate school,
and I hate getting out of bed.
I want braces,
and I like when my foot falls asleep.
I like Good Charlotte,
and if you care,
don't bother telling me,
cause I really don't.
I always wear a belt,
and I like my pants low.
I hate spelling mistakes,
and snow.
I get jealous very easily,
and I'm always mad about something.
I still beleive in closet monsters,
and I get scared easily.
I could care less whether animals get slaughtered,
and I hate when my msn effs up.
You most certainly cannot vote for my pictures,
and I hate little chautchy bitches.
I hate the 'don't label me' kids,
and my watch has lizards on it.
I like cough drops,
even when my throat doesn't hurt.
I like drawing on myself,
and I like to scratch people.
I hate little kids,
and I love homemade cards from people.
I like hanging roses,
and I love the last peice of gum.
I hate when people copy me,
and I like lame songs.
I like to hang stuff off my lipring,
and I like my eyebrows.
My favorite song is Ain't Love Grand,
And I worship Atreyu.
I'm shy,
and I love bad t-shirts.
I don't like to share,
and I want a kit kat bar.
<3
Punk Rock Love
Punk Rock Love Is.... Punk rock love is making-out behind the dumpster down the street from the show. Making-out at the Hotel Carlton. Making out in the recycle bin. Looking at her tattoos while she's asleep. Taking showers together. Playing checkers with cigarette butts. Watching her band play. Dumpstering veggies together and then going back to her place and cooking up a feast. Knowing the same parts of the same songs. Both of you having the same ex. Punk rock love is having to tie her shoes for her cuz she's too drunk. Kissing under the overpass. Her sending you her whole diary to read. Her giving you ten rolls of duct tape for your birthday. Her beating up skinheads. Going to the prom on her motorcycle and checking in the helmets at the coat check. Getting astonished stares from all the jocks who thought you were gay, now they feel dumb cuz you're with an older punk rock bombshell and they're with their friend's little sister. Punk rock love is meeting her outside the club and her saying come home with me or I'm gonna kick your fuckin ass. Going home with her and she almost kicks your ass anyway. Sharing hair dye. Riding double on a bike. Being loud and not caring. Sneaky eyes and sleeveless t-shirts. The sun coming up and you realizing that there's other people on the beach. A good sleazy one week stand. Still being friends afterwards, most of the time. Punk rock love is her sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet you in the park. Running your fingers over her spiky hair. Her chewing on a flower and you having to call poison control when her tongue swells up. Bringing her to the Laundromat for a date. Sharing a sleeping bag and waking up freezing in the middle of the night and her, bleary eyed, trying to heat it up with a blow drier. Social Unrest playing "Ever Fallen in Love?" at the gig you're both at the night after she dumps you hard. Starting smoking again after that night. Punk rock love is her drawing on you. Her sleeping on your back. Her being mad at you for being such a jerk. Her thinking it's cool that you stink and your hair stands up by itself. Her having weird roommates who worship eggs. You waiting in the doorway for hours hoping she might pass by. Even in the snow. Her singing along with Descendents records over the air on her late night radio show. Her picture on the front page of the morning paper, getting arrested. Her borrowing your favorite black hat and never giving it back. Punk rock love is finding a girl who drinks as much coffee as you do. Going into the cafe where she works and she looks up and smiles and doesn't notice as she tips over a pile of 50 dishes. They hit the floor one by one and when it's all done everyone in the cafe applauds and you both turn beet red. Punk rock love is both of you doing fanzines. Years later her teaching English to college freshmen, you still doing fanzines. Her wearing glasses through her eyes are fine, using crutches though her legs are fine, and talking with a fake speech impediment. You just thinking it's rad girl style, until later when someone brings up the concept of self-imposed handicaps. Punk rock love is getting your first kiss and almost losing your virginity at the same time, meanwhile you're trying not to wake up the other person sleeping in the same bed. Groping in the bushes by the freeway and later you realize that all the passing cars could see you. Exploring the wasteland together. Holding hands out on the fire escape. Lying in the grass in her backyard. Lying on the Astroturf in her bedroom. Drinking tequila on her porch, on your birthday. Riding on her motorcycle early in the cold morning and you're holding on tight and steam is rising off of the river and you're thinking how she is maybe even better than the Ramones. Punk rock love is both being broke. Love letters. Finding out she sang "Stay Free" at her high school talent show. Finding out she's a little crazier than you thought when you finally get her in bed. Her boyfriend getting mad. Walking around with her and her nephew and everyone giving you dirty looks cuz they think he's your kid. Walking around with her and being happy and proud. Being sad together. Being sad by yourself. Missing her.