Pretty girls in lace tops
Stare out of windows
And into the air
With ancient make-up
And blistered feet.
They send shock waves towards me,
And we share them
Hiding our faces from the boys
Who sit behind us
Showing off their effortless exhaustion
Comparing our ruins, who we are now,
who we were an hour ago
With our short skirts,
Low cut dresses
Freshly kissed lips
All chapped
and almost satisfied.
Well, I supposed I’m almost satisfied
I mean,
- I could’ve kissed him
better, with more conviction, more time
But I did kiss him all the same
And at last, I’ve lost the contagion of my-
self
To act without feeling,
Touch without meaning,
To seek without guilt.
(she does wallow in it, under
-myskin-myeyelids-myfingernails-
all half invisible silvery trails and dirt
-so much stronger than I-)
Oh, to be guiltless,
to feel it as an irritation,
Inevitable, but transient, unimportant.
(she floods me with someone else tonight
she touched his arm, moved my hand along his leg and
I don’t exist)
Because now I can let go.
Let me let go
Let me let go
Let me go, please,
Just for now,
Just forever, for good,
Though I shiver, I shake
With all of tonight pressing into me
And I can’t see straight
‘I’ can’t matter right now
And I look out the window
of a night-time bus
As we delve deeper into suburbia.
With darker rings around my eyes
Than any of those goddamn
pretty
girls
An anachronistic dress,
Blue dots on my fingers
Friends in scattered seats,
I could sleep forever.
And god, I swear,
I’m almost satisfied.
