We're there and it's dark.

Not too dark, a smokey dark, a black and white detective movie dark.

The music's rocky, indie, punky. She jumps to The Cure.

And there's him and him and him and them and the others; hers.

I never did get on very well with women - I feel awkward. I'm a slut with the boys.

Gimmie back my money, no I dont want a drink.

He leaves. He was my comfort. I take refuge in another him, him with the baggy jeans and skater runners. We talk of foundation and eye-liner.

Cute she's cute.

Black hair. Blue eyes. Punky, gothy, suicide girl.

You do, uhhuh, oh yeah me too, right cool, mmm, hi, hi, you sexy goose.

And so we dance. And they swarm around us cause my skirt is too short and she is far too hot. And it's fast and I dont want her to go that was too fast no no no but its not over and that's good. . . . . . . .

Cause I wont let go of her.

Cause she thinks I'm sexy. Cause she thinks I'm perfect. Cause she's biting me and licking me and I'm pretty sure my lips are bleeding.

Shit I hope her brother doesnt kick the shit outta me. SHIT.

But he doesn't instead he makes an effort, instead he becomes my friend, we comedy dance and I wonder if he watched us.

And again she's gone. I should have said more. I should have told her. Cause she never came back. Not like that. From then on her eyes were a little glazed, her heart was a little further from my reach.

She kissed me goodbye.

We swapped numbers.

I left her a 'hope u get home safe' text.

No reply.

I think that I can live with this,

wow.

I think that I can be yours when you want me,

god.

I think I'll be ok with you in tiny tiny tablets.