:: Boy In Corner ::

:: Tuesday, April 13, 2004 ::

I whip out my cell phone and check to caller ID,
To see if it's that call for me that I've been hoping to see,
But it's not.

And it itches at my brain like
I was just mindfucked by a bush of poison oak.
It gets under my skin like
Hypodermic needles filled with caffeine.
I'm anxious.
No,
Nervous is more aptly descript,
And as I read from this script that I'm given,
I can't help but feel a deep schism in my gut
As my self-confidence falters, stumbles, and trips,
I realize that I'm probably not as hip as she'd like me to be,
And even though I thought I made my feelings plain to see
I guess maybe she just isn't into me.

So I sigh, and check my cell phone again
Just in case that it rang and somehow I missed it's loud ringtone and vibration.
I haven't.
Not one voicemail or a single missed call,
I guess I won't have a date to the Spring ball...

But shit, I didn't want to go anyway.
And I guess it's probably better this way,
Cuz even if we did get to roll in the hay, I'd still have to watch what I say,
Do, and write, but now, I'm free
Like King Arthur saved by his knights,
And I don't have to worry about paying for dates.
Besides, I can always masturbate, so I won't be missing out on
Too much, but such things I guess should be left unsaid,
Since apparently censors are now seeing red.
But at least now I'm not playing FCC to myself,
And I don't have to hide skeletons in secret compartments behind my shelf.
And she's the one missing out, not me,
But
Is that the truth,
Or is it just me softening the landing by sanding it smooth?

And suddenly my phone rings and I rush to dig it out of my pocket and my heart leaps as I check the caller ID and then
I just answer it.

Shit, I didn't want her to call me back anyway.

:: Rick Kitagawa 10:53 PM [+] ::
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