Lovely Millenials

What the f**k are you?

One who hates pictures,

You know what we expect

our contracts are through text

Our operating hours whenever the

hell we feel like

We are allowed the room to grow

You are allowed no mistakes

Your personality is unforgivable

We look at you in the hallway

She looks at you in the hallway

We don’t want your kind

We are the weird, the strange

You are weird, and strange

So get the f**k out of here

How is this so hard for you?

You do drugs. You drink.

Come through sometime

Leave yourself at home.

Get out of your shell, and live

in it. Take the flames from

your own personal hell, and

use them to light my blunt.

Isn’t life wonderful? Aren’t

I a complete piece of trash, take

me out. Sleep with me or hit me.

Dealer’s choice. My five minutes

is your two hours. My life is what

everyone wants, because I sell

you the ability to forget.

That you’re a freak, that I am

a creep, that she is cold-blooded

and has the audacity to feel bad

about it. I have been doing this

for a long time. I am experienced.

Or I am pathetic. And frankly, I

couldn’t care less.