I want to pick up what is around me like lint

on a black dress.

Easy to see secrets stick to me like glue and,

“do that face you make, like, you know the one”

and she sees right through me.

I went to starbucks and the group sitting next to me is talking about

gender normals, I cringe, and, you know, heteronormaltivityness.

I want to whip out

mine-is-bigger-than-yours

but, I guess, the book I’m reading is right

I don’t know how to know-it-all,

not like they do.

This guy on the street is playing the guitar and

saaaay is aint sooooOoOooo

(inflection!)

I think it’s actually weezer because it sounds like weezer so

I go to find weezer

but weezer isnt there

so I go home.

-True Story-

These girls on bikes are bumping and weaving and

I guess I am too, but.

They’re talking about trust, and how this guy told this girl to just

you know, trust me!

I want to tell them to stop, sit down, hand me a pen and paper

let me document their conversation, because this is real life

and it’s happening all around me.

Oh god, it’s happening all around me.

It’s happening all at once.

I want to pick up what is around me like lint

on a black dress

so at least I could go back and look at it later.

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