She turns away slightly and her long purple hair falls down to her side. She's wearing that old ripped up nirvana tee that just barely reaches the bottom of her shorts. I never really liked Kurt Cobain until I saw her wearing that shirt for the first time. Since then smells like teen spirit has been on repeat. Her black socks are poking out of her once white Adidas that now cover with traces of dirt from bad decisions. I'd give anything if I could walk next to those shoes for a night and catch a glimpse of her world. He grabs her waist and turns her back around. Face to face she blows the smoke from her recently lit cigarette onto him. He smiles and kisses her neck. I stand watching from across parking lot


















