Summer sprawls before me
her heavy lidded eyes mocking
her slender finger beckoning
as she lounges on my bedroom floor.

I close my eyes and ears
only to be met by
a blur of obligations and threats.

What don't you understand, bitch?
Solitaire is my life.
I need to keep my fingers busy
while I feed my aching soul with punk rock.

It's my party
me and my purple hair and blue eyes
slashed up t-shirt and torn jeans
fantasies lust and loneliness
tears cuts and medication.

Little do you know
your disapproval only feeds
this cult of hedonism and self-destruction.

Summer still lies on my floor
not moving now
her delicate hand clenched in a fist
her eyes no longer contemptuous,

just empty.