suburban teenage garage melodrama

She texts

I drag

He plays

Slowly at first

Building, looping

Smoke swirling

Scrambling for hits

Dazed, lit

Warming to the empitness

of the repition

of the familiar dog licks

between old radio hits

She sits

I zone

He plays

Climactic, expressive

Digging, pulling

Anxiety over pouring

Popped 

like our mourning zit

Another leaving play of teenage mimicks

She sees

I laugh

He stays

Author's Note

I'm concerned about my use of almost kitchy slant rhymes and overall construction of this piece, trying to figure out to pull it all together. Should i scrap? or more accurately-- what's worth keeping here guys?

Reviews

[Jill Wallflower]

Well, this sounds familiar from my party days... It's really good though :)

[Eileen]

Mmm. Smoking pot? It's very realistic and honest. I've seen this happen myself. Great write.