Walking down the street,
Breathing in somebody’s cigarette smoke,
Dazzled by the scent of slow death and nicotine,
I remember that I don’t have a father —
I’m technically a bastard, but
Pardon my elevated self esteem: I have a baby doll
Face, anyway. People say
I’m gonna go places while I take my daily
Walking down the street, I remember
That girl’s kiss. Her fingers, her
Naked body, her tongue…
And the fact that I haven’t slept
With my boyfriend yet
I’m trapped in the horizon.
I can’t stop staring at this gorgeous
View… It’s a cloudy afternoon
I smile. No, I don’t know why.
I just wonder
If anyone’s really normal at this point.
I sigh because everything seems so mundane