We were smoking cigarettes and eating candy. Drinking our coffee with the whisky in it and knocking shit over that we would let someone else clean up for us...

  (knocking shit over that we had no intention of cleaning up)

   With brows knit in concentration like trying to solve a Rubik's Cube-- the whole while there were smiles painted on our thin lips--

    And I should have been using my thin lips for kissing handsome boys in leather jackets--

    Not here for smiles with you in your Value Village cardigan, watching videotapes of Saturday morning cartoons on a Friday night, too scared to drop acid during HR Pufnstuf because I don't want my mind to go to a dark place...

    I just want the sunshine and codeine I found in Islington-- some strange peace-- the ability to forget these boring things called 'feelings'...

     10 pm, riding in the old beat-up Volvo wagon, listening to a mix tape from a former lover (the only good thing out of the relationship) on the way to another $5 show and when Academy Fight Song comes on, we'll scream the words at the top of our weakened lungs...

"I'M NOT JUDGING YOU-- I'M JUDGING ME..."