rapstars

So I'm sitting here in Luke's makeshift half kitchen, half building site playing host to tonight's cigarettes and bottles bottles bottles £3.73 sauvignon. I'm sitting here in a deck chair, chain round neck, the gare of the pendant laughing at my chest. We arrived to the place with nothing but party on our lips, through bottles bottles bottles of headaches we sip.
Our circle of heads slouch with every draft of green or swig of clear, until we're eventually staring at our toes, focusing on laces in quick persuit of sobriety. It hasn't come yet, im on the low of a high right now.

We're here for the long run, 10pm onwards, one day to another until im drunk enough to drive out of here. Get behind lights and wheel, ready to face the front door, eventually arriving at the end of bed where i will rest for weeks in sleepiness, in swallows to parents doubt. Maybe this is all we will get, the highlights of parties and twitching feet, stoking friendly fires until conversation catches light and the chemistry is set when our eyes meet. We're young, not old.

Im 20 in 1 day from from now and i feel 16



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