these flats

were not made for climbing

and yet their soles

still stick to the

rock inlaid slope

of the path up to

I17

my dress is as short

as his patience

and when we sit

the gravel

digs straight

into my thighs and

i'm the kind of girl

that doesn't know

what to do with her hands

so they stay, palms pressed

their pliable flesh formed

around sharp stones

the feeling of

mineral into skin

travels through my hands

my veins, to my

brain which is still trying

to process the sensation

of his tongue in my mouth

and the sound

of cars rushing past

their windswept noise trails

like streetwise bullets

sent by a firing squad

ordered to execute

this bare-thighed

prude

aw you know i didnt

mean it

put a smile on sugar

learn to take a compliment

for once

girls these days

are so uptight

i want a girl

like a dog wants a bone

smooth skinny white

easy enough to break

i know you want me

your curves

belong in my hands

we were made

for each other baby

its no coincidence

that my hand fits

perfectly between

your thighs

don't act like

you don't want it

slut.

a thigh high skirt

short sleeved blouse

you're asking for it hon

there are animals out there

carry your mace

stick your keys

in-between your fingers

ask a man

to walk you home from

your night class

don't take that drink

drunkenness

doesn't suit

a young lady

anyway

boys will

be boys

they just can't

help themselves

us girls gotta

stick together

glue

we're glue

you and me

when i look

into your eyes

it's like

dyn-a-mite

and when we

kiss it's all

pow pow pow

i love you

like a sunset

in purples and reds

i love

your mind

i love

the fucked up way

you think

it's like some

kind of symphony

where the musicians

are the shit you've

been through and

the conductor

is those drugs

they make you take

and boy that music

that sweet song

it just goes

whoooooosh

its the third

criminal speeder

ive heard

i think as we sit

hands locked

backs to

chain-link

i can still

feel the rocks sink

into my legs as he

turns to me

and asks

if i wanna

get high tonight

soon enough

the air is

clouded with smoke

it lodges itself

in my clothes

in my hair

writhes and

wriggles

down my throat

and he finds it

hilariously funny

in his inebriated state

that i cough and choke

on every last hit

like the child eternal

because i am still

young my skin

is raw and new

which is why

those rocks in my legs

hurt so damn much.