morning after
blurry, everything is so blurry-
his breath smells of party, of lipstick and of bad music
chris can't help it, he doesn't remember a thing
a lonely bottle of booze stands near his bed (the mess on his floor)
he touches it with his feet, he's trying to get it but he's too lazy to stand up
he looks at it, hoping it could magically come to him (dream on)
he looks around him, around the tiny student room (the shit-hole)
oh forbidden love
angie was the one that got him here
angie that he loves, he does, even if they can't (we can't)
angela who's his teacher, his friend, his lover, his mother all at once and it's fucked up to even think it, but he can't help it, he loves her so much it hurts (a lot seems to hurt these days)
he opens his eyes, even if really he doesn't want to, doesn't want to be back in reality
he just want to keep on getting high (getting numb)
puck
he hopes one day he'll forget everything that makes him, oh so fucked up
fuck, that word could be the résumé of his fucking life, fuck (he likes to)
fucked (he is)
i need you
I need you,
More than anybody else has needed anyone before.
christopher hates his name, he hates it
it's too plain, he would have loved being name with a fucked up name
he wouldn't feel like he has to do more, so he isn't just anyone (like he is now)
jal has a pretty fucked up name, jal is special and pretty (and she's not fucked up like you)
jal's not fucked, she's stable and she helps him (she's the only stable thing in his life)
she's not michelle who's boyfriend's name changes everyday, she's not tony who's as fucked up now as he is, she's not sidney who simply can't make up his mind, or anwar who is muslim a day and not the other, she's not like maxxie, maxxie who's too nice and she's not cassie
she's even better that angie, than his angela (angela who left him)
I need you, you know little girl,
That you can keep the smile on my face
jal, little jal
who may just be the little girl he needs.
he really only loves his booze and his american apparels hoodies
chris looks at his ceiling and he got a sudden rage inside of him, he just wants to get it out
he wants to go out there and cry (cry it out)
chris is all alone and really he doesn't talk about it a lot (he doesn't want to remind himself)
he won't cry, just like a men (for once)
he'll sort himself out, just like he always does (two or three pills for the day)
he'll just stay here, in bed, with his booze and his weed, and he's happy
really happy, he is, for real (till he starts feeling again)
he remembers when he woke up that morning, when his mom was gone (she was already gone long before that)
he remembers the envelope and the little bulge
he remembers tony asking him if he remembered anything (he didn't want to remember)
he remembers spending every last penny (so she'll have to come back)
his mom with her mascara and her cheap cigarettes
he remembers her smile and how she used too call him 'baby' (she was-his baby)
he remembers her kiss and how they were (they were okay)
he wants to stop remembering because he might just have some kind of shit stuck in his eye and he really doesn't need a fucked up eye too (he already has some kind of bruise on his temple)
but really he snorts, he laughs, he's not a pussy (he is in fact, he cries, like a baby, like a boy)
so he gets up, he won't stay in here all day (he might do something he'll regret)
he's going out, him the booze and the yellow hoodie, that's all he needs really
-oh and maybe he'll call jal (just maybe)