Cami

“Any last words?”

“I…” he started.

“Kidding. I don’t give a fuck.”
― L.J. Shen, Angry God

“I didn’t tell them your secret.” My fingers dug into the wood of the window frame, the splinters cutting through my skin like little blades. The police officers were raiding the second floor, I could tell. I could hear them. They were going to find the attic, and then me. “Tell me you believe me, and I’ll jump.”

“What difference does it make?” He bared his fangs, staring at me with forced boredom.

The fire spread, licking at the grass and approaching us with surprising speed, though he didn’t seem to mind at all. We were already dangerously close to getting caught.

“Because it’s the truth,” I screamed.

Our eyes met in the dark and held for a moment.

“I don’t believe you, but I’ll still catch you,” he said. “I will always catch you, the fucking dumbass that I am.”

“What do you mean?”

“You soften me.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to fucking kill you! You’re too fun to fuck with. Now Get. The. Hell. Down.”
― L.J. Shen, Angry God

“Anything goes when everyone knows

Where do you hide when their highs are your lows?

So much, so hard, so long, so tired,

Let them eat until you’re ground into nothing.

Don’t you worry your glossy little lips.

What they savor ‘ventually loses it’s flavor.

I wanna lick, while you still taste like you.

Bookmark it, says the cheerleader

I promise we’ll come back to this spot.

I have shit to do first. You won’t wait a lot.

I can’t make her stay,

and I can’t watch her go.

I’ll keep her hellfire heart,

And bookmark it ‘fore it goes cold.

Fifty-seven times I didn’t call

Fifty-seven letters I didn’t send,

Fifty-seven stitches to breathe again, and then I fucking pretend.

Fifty-seven days to not need you

Fifty-seven times to give up on you

Fifty-seven steps away from you,

Fifty-seven nights of nothing but you.”
― Penelope Douglas, Punk 57

“Son, are you gay?” I spat the cognac out, choking on the earthy liquid. Dad remained calm, crossing one leg over the other. “Be frank. You know we don’t care, and we’ll support you no matter what. There’s nothing wrong with being gay.” “There’s nothing wrong with it, all right, but I’m not gay.” He blinked, saying nothing. “Why the fuck would you think that?” “You’re not a huge fan of the other sex.” “I’m not a huge fan of the human race.” “Me either. But then there’s your mother. I am a huge fucking fan of hers.”
― L.J. Shen, Angry God