Spoiler
I got the idea when picking up my little brother from school and seeing a girl walk out from a thrift shop, wearing ratty Converse, a 'The Strokes' tee and black skinny jeans and with waaaaaay too much eyeliner on. She looked sad and tired and sick. The store was called Vintage Original which is where I got the vintage dress thingy. The first couple of lines formed in my head and sort of stayed there until I got home. I'm not sure whether I like it.
~*~
A mess of torn vintage dresses, sunken raccoon eyes,
and old, ratty Converse,
with words and lyrics and poems and tiny scribble scrabbles and penned hearts covering the sides.
Some say she is rebelling against her parents,
who cry and yell and ground her.
Hoping that one day she will listen
and dye her rainbow head back to mousy brown
and take out the lip piercing
and stop listening to that emo punk trash
and transform back into their little girl again.
Some say she is rebelling against God;
entwining hands with Satan,
who's making her abandon Lucy Hans, her old best friend,
and befriend girls with names like Tears and 2MORO and Jezebelle
and sitting cross-legged in a circle with them, passing around the joint and that bottle.
I say she's rebelling against the world.
Who hates her hair and her clothes and her friends and her music.
I say that she's a Queen of Night tulip,
stubbornly trying to grow and reach out,
but wilts and falls in the attempt.
~*~

