Plathological

the best looking boys at day camp

Remembering hunger. Me? Maybe a little too morbid, sweating daylight with nothing but the sheets over me. The perfect time in my life for Belle and Sebastian, fox in the fucking snow, let yourself. Whisked away to mansions with hot tubs, vodka, the space as expansive inside as it is outside, paintings all over the walls, skinny boys with lyrics, guitars and shaking hair, me on their stick laps and no idea how those legs can hold me though I can fit into their pants with ease, money, money, the sun about to hit these rooms, and us back inside now, dripping hot water all over the hardwood, towels wrapped around our shoulders because it’s still night and it’s still cold and we’re in the middle of nowhere and the white cloth to break our fall if we slip with tumblers in our hands, everyone else gone to bed so we smoke inside on leather couches and he talks about his strange childhood, like everyone else. In a family of adoptions, he was one of the actual children. Didn’t stumble on my language there, “Oh. So you were one of the actual children.” In the morning he shows me the most terrifying, giant, hairy and epileptic rabbit I've ever seen in my life. And before all this, Jaxon throwing me against walls because he’s jealous, throwing my stuff all over the apartment because there may not have been anything else for him to do.

Boy on the bike, what are you like
As you cycle round the town?
You're going up, you're going down
You're going nowhere
It's not as if they're paying you
It's not as if it's fun
At least not anymore
When your legs are black and blue
It's time to take a break
When your legs are black and blue
It's time to take a holiday. [B&S]