No future

She could give you
the definition of life –
         parties, always new people,
  new places to be,
coloured drinks
(with these cute,
   coloured umbrellas),

needles, pills,

  another faceless boy,
another night with moaning,
heavy breathing,
            loud screams,
      then silence…
     and waking up alone,


    hangover,


she’ll skip school again, she’s angsty, could totally
need a drink, maybe she’ll call that boy from
yesterday, if she only could remember his name…
make-up, make-up, hiding her dreadful face,
covering her facial features.

“Future,” she whisper,
she know the word
but ain’t too sure
it’s meaning,
as she writes it on the condensation on the bus window,
only to wipe it away and kiss the cold glass instead,
smiling to her reflection.

“Party at Tim’s tonight.
He’s hot.”