Friend

I’m only fun when I’m fucked up And overly encumbered Take my number and the covers That you’ll throw on your head While you wait for me to run out Of words that only make sense If we made up over summer instead You’re only fun when you’re fucked up I hope that you remember Take my number Have another in so that you forget While I wait for you to grow up The only conversations worth the patience Are the ones in my head I might be young But I’m fed up With asking fucking questions As to whether I’ll be someone Or inherently dead It’s pretty rough, ya know? That when we’re grown up The only real relation I’ve created Won’t even call me her friend - Can’t even call me her friend