Summer Night Rants in a Basement

Huge fight, bad night, girls running into the street with tears rolling down their cheeks,

Pale like the sweet meat of an apple,

Comforting love always there to care for when the others avertedly hate.

Teenage lust thinking its love trying to grow up fast, settle down, get a job, get fucked, live the life we dream, sitting on the porch talking big,

Not knowing whether you’re loved or just another person,

Being young is hard but its fun as all hell,.

Youth is fragile, a state between knowledge, a time of heartbreak and fake and the times we will miss when we sit in the cubicle, far in the future.

Creativity is dead? No, just the desire is.

Lets get lost, lost in the love and the beliefs we’re too scared to proclaim to the world.

Remember your worth because its all we have. We have no money, we have no souls, we only have this and tonight and each other.

Boredom isn’t sitting in a basement, its regretting the times we didn’t spend with each other, the times we didn’t take the time to kiss and to remind each other how special each butterfly is.

Carefree-ness is something to absorb, something we cannot forget to cherish because there will be a day when we are too busy to sit and smoke and drink and enjoy the nothingness of summer nights.