Real Girls

Twenty-two years but he looks so old
Has his own studio or so I’m told
Says now we’re intertwined when he grabs my arm
The ink on his neck says: ‘do not be alarmed’

Just above the floor two pair of feet are trying to ignore
A bittersweet melody he tries to be discreet but I catch him staring
Yeah I catch him looking down at my chest

“It’s mean to stare”
“There’s nothing there
But you’re alright
You’re alright
I still see all that you were
But you’re alright
You’re alright”

Bright eyes perfect teeth degree in french philosophy
Has merzbow on his t-shirt thinks we live in a meritocracy
Talks c-16, but uses proper pronouns
Says: “smoke with me” and I’m dragged outside

The weed kicks in and he starts to stare
Says he likes the bangs and asks if I cut my own hair
At this point I’ve started packing up and mapped my way home on my phone
“That thing will kill your creativity since you’re never alone”

“Who asked you?
I was just messing about”
“You’re alright
You’re alright
And I still see all that you were
But you’re alright
You’re alright
You’re alright
So it’s a shame I only like real girls”