Tattoo parlor in the 1920’s
How is she so hot. Just stop.
Why, if I am the only one who cleans the bathroom, the only one who vacuums, the only who doesn’t play obnoxious dubstep at 7 am, am I not allowed to bring my boyfriend in the room? Why, even though I’m 20 and my roommate is 17, am I letting her boss me around? Why is it okay for her to do whatever she wants but I have to follow rules, and listen to her tell me that, “Honey, maybe if you went to frat parties with me you’d be happier.” Did it ever occur to anyone that there is more to life than drinking and then throwing up in the bathroom every night? I don’t think that’s fun. Isn’t that okay? I want that to be okay. But I don’t know how to stand up to her. Or anyone actually.
if my roommate would silence the three Christina Aguilera that have been looping for the past two hours while she packs, I could finish this poem or find the lens cap I’ve been hunting for for two weeks.
I should probably give up smoking. I don’t want to keep pumping my lungs full of toxic chemicals. But the same thing’s happening to the planet so at least I’m one with nature.