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Real

(Victoria Anne)

Real
I don’t want to be pretty with you,
or cute with the perfect look
and pictures.
I want to kick ass.
I don’t want people to like us
or think we’re cool,
or nice.
I want to be hard.
I don’t want to smile with you
when we find ourselves with fools
and dicks.
I just want to leave.
I don’t want to be a poster couple
with never a problem
and everything sweet.
I want to be real.
I don’t  think of us in the words of Frankie Valley
and teen queens and jocks,
because we walk the edge.
 
When the flowers have fallen
and the grass has died,
when all the wonders
are shown to be dross,
we’ll remain and
we shall be proven.
 
Peter Cartwright
October 2015

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