i do not feel offended
when the word emo is presented.
to be quite honest
when i was in high school
such a thing did not exist.
their were goths
and then preppy chicks.
the two didn't mix.
then when we chopped big bangs
and broke boys hearts
with our studded belts
covered in stars,
we broke into pharmacies
and were underage in bars.
we became the subject of new punk songs.
pop went rock and you could see our thongs.
blue streaks and sparkly cheeks,
neon colors under band shirts from our mothers.
17 and sought after
by 22 age boys
they'd say anything to get into your pants
just so we could leave them with blue balls.
oh 2002,
there wasn't anything i couldn't do.
torn pants and plaid corsette.
a punk rock princess without her head.
higher than a kite on all different colors,
vodka in a water bottle, rolling joints for quarters.
collecting picks and drum sticks
telling tales of back stage shows
of my stupid friends
who acted like hoes.
how we started a division of a hipster trend
the type of girls who make out with boys
just for the right to get in his head.
hearing every song from that point on
as if it was wrote just for you
and see other girls with the bands shirt
and know she'll never know who
those boys really are
even if they become stars
because you were there from humble beginnings
you watched bad sets and won't forget
what a dick head that guys on rhythm.
the very start of emo living
wasn't categorized as anything but crazy,
driving from scene to scene
all to scream how he needs me.
never let them see you cry
or ask for a picture for them to sign.
emo girls are too cool for you
with their million earrings
and their thigh high boots.
it's not about the style at all...
it's about the heart breaker
and how hard, someday,
she might fall.
© L
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