yo, that's wack if i'm not the baddest


profile * old * mail * fucking sign it* or how about a nice note? you go forward / i'll go backwards


harper drives a truck with a lot of wheels. he kisses me once a week before he shifts into fifth with morris on the seat purring next to him. when i answer the phone sometimes it is a husky womans voice, thick with perfume and cigarettes and his sex all over her and my sex all over him. i know youve gotta leave and i know you'll buy me lots of flowers when youre home. you speak like a southerner, and you say prayers i couldnt understand when i'm thinking about wrapping you in chains that no amount of packaging tape could remove. i will cry. i will cry and you cant stop me when youre going out the door to drive all night and eat fast food and kiss other women in bars with florescent lights and cheap dance remixes. you say 'honey where i'm from, its just the way.' your father drove a truck and your mother made the paper bag lunches and you, you did your best to make her cry. give me a kiss and tell me you'll be back on tuesday to go to the picture show. until we sit on the porch swing, the letters will always say ps i think i love you.
d-land