16th Birthday, Punk Style

For your 16th birthday, your boyfriend makes a picnic of cheese and crackers and takes you to the park (read: elementary school sports field) that is the middle ground between your two houses at 11pm. It is very sweet: he buys you a lime green dress trimmed in matching fun fur and wine coolers and wraps it up in a box with paper and everything. He draws you a card, he plays with your fishnets, he puts on a cleanish shirt, he's really been thinking this out.

You've been-there & done-that to oral sex on the neighboring playground, and you're feeling too intimate for that anyway. There is the excitement of true love in the air, and you tell him: I want you to fuck me tonight. Since there is no arguing with a statement like that when you are raging with hormones, it's going to happen.

You take him home and roll around teasing for six hours, waiting until after 7:30am when your mom goes to work to actually go there. His smooth olive skin feels more like home than the whitebread and hymnals ever could. Images of your glitter and his hair and his hands and your lips mix with real live sweat and fucking that's not gentle but only because you are not gentle and he knows you.

You have no comparison and tell him he is super. You find out later: he really was.

You're up until 9am and because of your early summer birthday, you have to go to school: specifically, you have a final exam in Spanish to go to that began just about the same time you guys were starting your last round of it.

You way missed the bus so you walk to school as usual, semi-waddling like you're about to give birth or have an ingrown hair because your thighs don't fit together the way they used to. I'm going to have to get a car if I want to keep doing this, you think.

Since high school is 'taught' to keep kids in line and inside during the day, not to make them smarter or more useful, it doesn't bother you one bit to waltz into your final an hour late with your pencil in hand. Take the test and paper from your pissed-off teacher and whiz through the questions because they are easy, so goddamn easy that you finish in 45 minutes and walk, bowlegged, out before everyone else, knowing you got an A. This is your fucking day, girl.

To hang out with your punkasfuck bffs go here.
To go to an open mic cuz you feel so rad, go here.