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Tires

by David F. Bello

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1.
Two Summers 03:56
You can't pluck your eyebrows anymore, because you're beautiful and it hurts you when you do that, and I can't fall in love with three married women at once, because they're married and there's three of them, and I'm incompetent. Everything's so pretty and unnerving to me, socially. Two summers ago I fell in love with a half-Chinese girl and two summers before that I fell in love with any girl that wanted to drink rum and cokes. And two summers before that, with all the exercise and internet, you think I'd end up with something to show, but all I got was this bullshit cookie cutter, and all you got was that science book with any reference to condoms cut out and all the nipples covered in black tape. Don't you think it's about time you kissed her? You've been wasting your time all goddamn night. There's nothing but infrastructure and these vision machines. By that I mean, "Cool shirt!," "I love you!," and the word "goddamn." I had to move to get rid of myself, but it's the same as if you'd never came. You will be brave, you will be brave, you will be brave, you will be brave, you will be brave, you will be brave!
2.
I call you over a badly spent five dollars. The mall is such a lousy waste of time. I take apart the things you said on the way there, like how in a titty bar, you'd be queen, and that a stomach ache is not a good excuse for drinking, because it could be your liver and not your stomach at all. So take it easy on those dollar black labels, and don't get so drunk you forget to call.
3.
Imagine if you hadn't: the kind of songs I wouldn't write, the bars I'd go to where I would dance at night. Not being alone feels pretty weird, like how you said I'd felt when I didn't have a beard. Here I am, eating peanut butter and saltines, debating whether or not I even want to go to Gene's. This apartment is too loud. I can't seem to get myself out of it. We had a chance. Didn't use it.
4.
Tell the waterfall to fuck itself. I'm getting too wet. You make me tired like a seagull. I want to stick you with a needle. I hope you burn up in that fucking car. I hope when you crashed you had your seatbelt on and now you can't get out of it. When the ambulance driver talks on the news, her head is shaking, and when your mother finds out I hope she pisses herself screaming. You gave the world AIDS at a party. It only worked because everyone thinks that you're pretty. This is all just a disappointment. I tell myself that I hope you burn up in that fucking car. I hope when you crashed you had your seatbelt on and now you can't get out of it. When the ambulance driver talks on the news, her head is shaking, and when your mother finds out I hope she pisses herself screaming. I'm buying a guitar with money that I don't even have, sighed the thunderclap; the wheel you made inside a computer lab. You're looking at a condom at the bottom of the stairs, like you're driving on the sidewalk a date pretending not to care. I hope you burn up in that fucking car. I hope when you crashed you had your seatbelt on and now you can't get out of it. When the ambulance driver talks on the news, her head is shaking, and when your mother finds out I hope she pisses herself screaming.

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released May 19, 2014

Cover art by Dylan Balliett
actuallyafraid.tumblr.com

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David F. Bello Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

I sing for The World is a Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die. This is my solo project.

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