I want more than anything to be rebellious
But my better judgement outweighs that drive
“Think of your future!”
It screams in a whiny hiss
I’m not stupid
Really-
But what of it?
I’ll get drunk and write everything
Sing everything
Draw everything
Dance everything
I’ll be good company, only better
And I can come back contrite some other time
How about it?
But no
One sip of root-beer and jack suffices
And I only get sick and long for the guys who pursue passed out princesses
I’ll just pretend
That’s all my dumb-ass conscience will let me get away with
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