fist fights vs. fences
03.20.04&3:06 p.m.
i'm sitting on the hood of crys' car, letting the neon & rocknroll wash over me in the parking lot of blondie's.
pizza on the hood of a car we call betsy sue ellen, the doors open so we can hear sahara hotnights screaming through the speakers.
my hands are balled up in the sleeves of keith's hoodie & my lips chatter with cold between bites of hot pizza.
someone says theres a party at so-&-so's later & do we want to go? & we do. it's this little run down apartment building north of the concert hall where we saw yellowcard thursday night.
people are already spilling out in the hallway, red plastic cups of alcohol in their hands & we make ten dollar bets that the police will be there with in an hour. & they are.
& watching everyone pop pills like tic tacs & do lines of white powder off of hand mirrors, something clicks into place.
i'm tired of being the responsible one. the one who makes sure everyone gets home ok, who makes sure no one does anything stupid. the one who holds back crys' hair when she's puking her guts up in the bushes outside of the building.
the one who sneaks keith into her bedroom because he can't go home drunk & sobers him up with black coffee at three in the morning.
i don't want to be the girl who keeps lists & organizes things in her head just so everything fucking runs smoothly.
i want to be that girl, dancing on the table & drinking until the room spins. i want to be that girl who lives off painkillers & coke & carries around a little metal lunch box with all of her drugs in it.
i want to be the girl who drives on the wrong site of the road & disappears for two hours only to be found wandering around the aisles at 7-11 instead of being the girl who leaves the party to go find jenn in those florescent aisles. the girl who patiently explains to her where she is & buys her water so she won't dehydrate because she's rolling on ecstacy.
i want electric nights with no responsibility. i want to play chinese fire drill with boys from menlo on the busiest highway in san fran & get in fights that end with me in the back of a police car.
i'm tired of being told i don't know what i'd do with out you, madyson. i'm tired of being the dependable one.