my problem

I write letters to girls
that I think could
have been perfect with me.
But they turn out to be
either
bimbos or taken.
I’m done being lonely.
I need to be touched,
and I don’t want to be alone.

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desperation, idiocy

I check my email everyday
you know,
the account that was created especially for you.
after you sent your first (and last) mail
i stayed awake till four
writing something beautiful
which i would have hoped you like.
i knew i shouldnt have
because i still wait
and wait
and wait
for your reply.

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growing up

My roommate and i
occasionally at 4am
blast the pokemon theme song
and sing and sing and sing
till we get sick of the song.
we lie to ourselves that growing up
is good indeed
and not sad at all.
but then, we sing somemore.

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