I Can't Wait For It To Be 5pm On A Friday

i can't wait for it to be 5pm on a friday

the artist doesn't think like the audience does

last thursday night, i spent hours researching hrt. i told my best friend. i was 87% sure i wanted to do it. he said, “can i play devil’s advocate?” and i said, “yes,” and he said, “are you sure you want to do it? its a permanent change.”

i laughed.

(i say shit without thinking. i will always say yes to him without thinking. i won’t think about the consequences with him. that’s what happens when this shit is indescribable.)

i get where he’s coming from. but i feel weird, wasn’t it painful to watch me struggle for years to insist i was a girl when i so clearly never quite wore it right? do you really think this is something i’ve decided overnight?

and its not fair to you.

111 and that room brightening smile of yours

vendetta, wi

i keep my eyes glued to the road when i start seeing the exit signs for you. like i might accidentally start sweeping the town for you. not that we'd recognize each other. politely turned down i-love-you’s. the pit in my stomach faded into the fluorescent bulb buzz. the face of my grief changed to some other kid desperate for a body to sleep with. i keep my eyes glued to the road, and i repeat, what does it matter anyway? because its all i can think about. every impala, straight piped, navy, broken bumper, black, dented fender, tinted windows, doors that don’t lock.

i never cried for you like i cried for him.

to hyperventilate in his room. to cry as i hug him goodbye. to watch 300 miles of highway lines pass through my tears. to call my friends to come to my room, because i’m shirtless, laying on the floor with blood thinners in my right hand and a knife in my left.

thats not the same as forced tears on your couch, as you tell me i’m not a good person. hell, we were sixteen. fourteen. twelve. what did we know? you never cared for me like i cared for you, like my friends care for me now. i pity anyone who ever crossed paths with you.