after reading a poem in pinkisux's journal i started writing and this is what came out:
Punkrock love is her noticing a boy for his please fix me sticker on the first day of school
The boy admiring the art on her notebook
Bunking together to spend an hour in a public toilet getting high
Punkrock love is him taking her to a secret gig at the scummiest cheapest hole in town and pretending its not a date
Killing time in the rain eating stolen Jelly Babies
Sharing a can of Special Brew
Punkrock love is her slamming hard and sweating her guts out and maybe getting a black eye, and caring even less than usual
The look in his eyes when she comes out of the pit steaming
The promise that it might be just as dangerous alone later
Comparing bruises and cuts and aching together
Fucking drunk and high and forgetting
Getting a second chance at the first shag
Punkrock love is him trusting her with his Mohawk
And a razor blade next to his skull
And her cutting him anyway just because
Him loving the smell of her matted unwashed hair
But washing every other part of her while sharing bath water for economical reasons
Punkrock love is riding the underground back and forth for entertainment
Hanging out on the platform for hours
Making friends with mice
Not having anywhere to go
Not needing to go anywhere
Being able to leave the house with no money and knowing its going to be a good day
Laughing as mistaken passers-by drop spare change into a cup of coffee just shared on a stoop
Spending the change on more coffee for a favourite junkie
Punkrock love is oral sex in the cinema on Sex Pistols Weekend
Being admired whilst spitting
Passing out in the bus shelter together
Kicking the shit out of thieves together
Not noticing the smell of piss on the streets
Mix tapes
Being cold a lot
Her selling his shitty bands shitty single
Him selling half his record collection to pay a debt of hers
Her replacing it bit by bit
Him spray painting her name in an impossible place
Birthday presents that cost nothing
Punkrock love is fucking on the bus home
The drunks seeing her tits
Fucking in a phone box covered in seedy calling cards
Painting each other, and then the phone box with tomato sauce from the 10 million individually wrapped packages you nicked from Burger King
Getting home and fucking against the golden arches that were booty from May Day
Punkrock love is her forgiving him for punching her
But planning a sneak attack anyway
Him treasuring the scars she gave him more than his tattoos
Ripped piercings gone unnoticed till morning
The blood on the sheets for weeks
The neighbours calling the police
Punkrock love is her disappearing for 6 days
And not having to explain
Suddenly fucking someone else
And things being ok
Getting high and cutting each other for catharsis
Maybe to exorcise
Seeing each other at gigs after breaking up properly
Fucking in the toilets
In the cubicle next to his new girlfriend
Her shagging some guy from some band
Him hearing about it
And then nothing else
Meeting again on some street corner
Having to pay 20p to fuck in the toilets at the station
Getting on the train home alone
Crying as the booze wears off
Never seeing each other again
Being reminded of the first kiss with the taste of metal and beer or the smell of a stale ashtray
Smelling the cuffs of your ages unwashed jumper and not wanting to wash it ever
______________
ok. i'm done
ngnm
Punkrock love is her noticing a boy for his please fix me sticker on the first day of school
The boy admiring the art on her notebook
Bunking together to spend an hour in a public toilet getting high
Punkrock love is him taking her to a secret gig at the scummiest cheapest hole in town and pretending its not a date
Killing time in the rain eating stolen Jelly Babies
Sharing a can of Special Brew
Punkrock love is her slamming hard and sweating her guts out and maybe getting a black eye, and caring even less than usual
The look in his eyes when she comes out of the pit steaming
The promise that it might be just as dangerous alone later
Comparing bruises and cuts and aching together
Fucking drunk and high and forgetting
Getting a second chance at the first shag
Punkrock love is him trusting her with his Mohawk
And a razor blade next to his skull
And her cutting him anyway just because
Him loving the smell of her matted unwashed hair
But washing every other part of her while sharing bath water for economical reasons
Punkrock love is riding the underground back and forth for entertainment
Hanging out on the platform for hours
Making friends with mice
Not having anywhere to go
Not needing to go anywhere
Being able to leave the house with no money and knowing its going to be a good day
Laughing as mistaken passers-by drop spare change into a cup of coffee just shared on a stoop
Spending the change on more coffee for a favourite junkie
Punkrock love is oral sex in the cinema on Sex Pistols Weekend
Being admired whilst spitting
Passing out in the bus shelter together
Kicking the shit out of thieves together
Not noticing the smell of piss on the streets
Mix tapes
Being cold a lot
Her selling his shitty bands shitty single
Him selling half his record collection to pay a debt of hers
Her replacing it bit by bit
Him spray painting her name in an impossible place
Birthday presents that cost nothing
Punkrock love is fucking on the bus home
The drunks seeing her tits
Fucking in a phone box covered in seedy calling cards
Painting each other, and then the phone box with tomato sauce from the 10 million individually wrapped packages you nicked from Burger King
Getting home and fucking against the golden arches that were booty from May Day
Punkrock love is her forgiving him for punching her
But planning a sneak attack anyway
Him treasuring the scars she gave him more than his tattoos
Ripped piercings gone unnoticed till morning
The blood on the sheets for weeks
The neighbours calling the police
Punkrock love is her disappearing for 6 days
And not having to explain
Suddenly fucking someone else
And things being ok
Getting high and cutting each other for catharsis
Maybe to exorcise
Seeing each other at gigs after breaking up properly
Fucking in the toilets
In the cubicle next to his new girlfriend
Her shagging some guy from some band
Him hearing about it
And then nothing else
Meeting again on some street corner
Having to pay 20p to fuck in the toilets at the station
Getting on the train home alone
Crying as the booze wears off
Never seeing each other again
Being reminded of the first kiss with the taste of metal and beer or the smell of a stale ashtray
Smelling the cuffs of your ages unwashed jumper and not wanting to wash it ever
______________
ok. i'm done
ngnm
VIEW 13 of 13 COMMENTS
twwly:
that was amazing.
cobalt:
Hey don't shortchange yourself - I've just been at this art thing for longer than you have! If you've got some projects a-brewin' give a shout, I'd be delighted to hear about them.