Roots Before Branches

F*** Off Frat Boy

ΑΔ
Red solo cups full of nothing but poison,
Parties you choose rather than those chosen.
America is failing; it's rotting, it's broken.
He just uttered a threat he knew should've went unspoken.
Ralph Lauren polo shirts you know were bought with daddy's money,
Stilettos heels; she's trying to stay close to eternal glory.
A sin is a sin even if it's dressed in diamanté,
We'll never be able to cover up the pain.

I've been to parties where kids basically ask to die,
And it scares me each and every time.
But, college parties are levels I could never understand,
Just look where he has his hands.
I'm in overalls and an oversized red sweater,
Enormous black frames; for my eyes they cover.
Mr. Popular walks up to me and says with a grin and a pill,
"I can show you how to win".
Fuck off frat boy, I don't want to mix with you,
I know exactly what you're up to.

Parties you see in the movies are tame in comparison,
Chandeliers are in pieces on the floor and vomit is laying next to them in unison.
Givenchy dresses are torn at the seams,
Nightmares won't ever become dreams.
We're drowning our sorrows in Smirnoff and Bacardi,
This is the perfectly wrong kind of party.
You may be wondering why I'm here,
I'm writing this in the spare bedroom, I can think; it's quiet, it's clear.
Lauren is here because her boyfriend fucks anything that moves,
Kilian is here because all he ever will do with his music is lose.
And, me, I'm here because my mind is failing me,
I'd rather risk it all than write some pathetic, victimised poetry.
I have issues and problems I cannot wrap my head around,
This party is the perfect explosion for the silence in my head; it's unashamedly loud.

But, as I'm writing these words on the back of scrunched up toilet paper,
I can feel something that I've never felt before.
It may be the alcohol returning to my lips,
I cannot quiet explain this.
I leave the bedroom at 11.45,
I'm walking past friends I know I'll lose tonight.
I leave the fraternity house with something coming for me,
It's an idea; a renewal of poetry.
I lay on the grass next to burning Greek letters,
I suddenly feel so much better.
I've finally cracked the code for what I've been feeling,
Happiness is not a constant, it will always be fleeting.
I used to beat myself up for feeling sad,
Now I know I don't need to do that.
So, thank you to the god awful shitshow I just left,
I think you've finally made a version of me I actually think is the best.