I do remember that night.
Azariah’s birthday.A few days before my departure.
I was feeling at my coolest with my pulp fiction shoes
and Shoreditch smirk.
He’s never spoken to me before.
-but I knew him (though), obviously.Point is, he was stylishly messy with blue eyes and
a thing for vintage frames.
He said ‘hi, come over’ in his dry tone voice
Whilst caressing the empty chair next to
him.
I was surprised that he had seen me from
this Fresh prince infused room.Not to mention, I had been salivating over him for an hour or so.
I guess he had noticed my evident charm
and wit.
It was only natural; I jumped over hills
from a menial gesture from this
-Self-discipline vintage framed boy but no no noI fucking tripped over my own ankles
Urgh.
Maybe I should have gotten new shoes or something?
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