the curse of being a suburban teenager

empty beer bottles and crushed premix cans. what says house party like making out with your best friend and biting her tongue so hard she screams? walking the hour home in my bare feet, cut and blistered from the freezing cold ground. lighting cigarettes for guys you had a mutual hatred for at thirteen. skin tanned from a bottle and skimpy tops, shoulders shoulders shoulders everywhere. shitty speaker playing shitty music. the curse of being a suburban teenager