Maya
Fortified with the gift of gibber, eats anything apart from liver. lives with 2 dogs and a stinky brother and a dad and a mother. and a cracked polystyrene man who just crumbles, yeah crumbles and burns. and she likes radiohead, a lot of metal, jazz, celtic music, a lot of people, 'Johnny The Homicidal Maniac' & 'Bear' & 'Skeleton Key' comics and her two shih tzus - Abby (Abigail) and Kusho. I WANT: Nothing

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Saturday 7 July 2007

we had the same lame dreams

same mundane ambitions

with doctor kens

and hairdresser barbies

and the leprosy-struck-maid

was always frowned upon

we'd stuff a cork in her mouth

tie her to her chair

stuff her mouth with pantyhouse

pull her hair, starve her

and we'd be mean to the kids

with learning disabilities

stuffing their shoes with stones

outside the playhouse

kicking dust in their faces

laughing at their bleeding noses,

skinny-dipping in the sea

eating ice-creams knee-to-knee

mischievous games we devised

made our parents scream

their lungs out.

then we started getting curious

about kissing and love-making

and staying up late nights

talking about boys.

barbies were forgotten,

frocks were thrown away,

left to be eaten by moths

who lived in the closets

fears of the boogey-man

disappeared too quick

and our belief in santa too.

but we remained forever

holding on tight

making a pact

making all sorts of promises

deep into the night.

sleeping side by side

smiling, loving it all,

believing it all.

and then we reach teenhood

and conversations evolve

from snogging to condoms

from future plans to current parties

and a ghost posseses you

and you decide to drop your kiddy friend

and all the dill-hole plans you made with her

and you call her naive

because she embarrasses you

and you become all independent

and your and her joint plans in the past

become your personal plans

and thoughts of sharing an apartment

only with the cutest guy in the class

and you go out into the world

take advantage of your new-found assets

that bulge out from your tiny top

with your make-up and push-up bra in tow

clubs and boys and making noise become

an obsession, an insatiable craving

that you have to fulfill.

and one day if you fall into trouble

that you feel you can't handle

you'll search for answers in the back of your head

and come up with your buddy from the past,

your old best friend.

cuz you know you'll be alright

cuz you have your back-up buddy

to help you through it

so you'll feel better

and well enough........

to be a bitch again.

yours truly,

your back-up buddy, always waiting in the sidelines.

because oxygen is a drug
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