Improvments/Pretty Boys

July 5, 2016 in My Blog

I just kinda want to show how my writing has improved in the last year and seven months.

I smoke with the boys in the band,
Prissy boy won’t you hold my hand?
Pretty boys don’t light their own cigarettes.
Pretty boys don’t spend their own money.

Now pretty boys don’t smile,
You’re cuter alone but ask him,
“Why don’t you stay a while?”
A quarter for a cigarette.
A dollar for a kiss.
You got him trapped,
let me tell you this.

Pretty boys,
Yellow teeth,
Bouncing around,
Under another boy’s sheets.
Pretty boys,
Coffee don’t cover up smoke.
Smoke don’t cover up heartache,
It’s your turn,
This time it’s him you break.

Pretty boys like your drugs.
Pretty boys like your money.
Pretty boys don’t need your love,
You’re cuter when you don’t talk honey.
He’s tired of you,
You’ll get over him,
And he’ll do it again.

What,
You haven’t heard?
Pretty boys you know,
Will kick you to the curb.
They say,
“That was fun while it lasted,
You were fun for a week,
But that was in the past.”

Pretty boys,
Too sweet for tattoos,
Pretty little faces.
Too cruel to stay with you,
So before you give a pretty boy a light,
You should know the truth.

My Favorite Song.

November 12, 2014 in My Blog

The worst part is you remember everything. You remember my birthday, you remember that tree I would climb leaving you at the bottom because you couldn’t climb as well as me. You remember witch swing I sat on on Halloween night, you can picture the outfit I was wearing perfectly. They say you still remember the taste of my cold lips and the way my hair would fall in front of my eye and you where the only one I would let fix it. They say you never stop staring at the seat next to you as if you expect me to show up sitting on it dangling my legs off and laughing. They say you wear the star on the back of your hand as if it will bring me back. They say they can see your heart breaking every morning when I don’t show up. They say you looks broken when you say my name. They say you cry while you listen to my favorite song we used to sing together but you has lost the heart to sing anymore. They say you pray for me too come home and that they do to. They tell me you curse that the stars because they remind you of me. They say it’s all my fault. They say you cry while you listens to my favorite song, little do they know I cry along. I just can’t find my way home.

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