she's the kind of girl who stays home on saturday nights in flannel pajamas and her curly hair poking out of a crooked bun. she wears a loose grey t-shirt, her collarbones jut out at an awkward angle. she's the kind of girl who sips wine out of a colorful mug with concentric circles- blue and electric pink, and orange and yellow. the lights are dimmed, the faint sound of swearing crack-whores and hobos waft in through the window that she's left open just a crack- she's the kind of girl that feels stifled when the windows are shut, even in 0 degree weather. she's the kind of girl who listens to 'fast car' over and over again, and wishes that she had black skin, cool and polished, reminding one of pots and the earth and hidden corners in large houses- beside bookcases, and by the stairs.she's the kind of girl who chooses to forego dinner and then snacks on mars bars, making herself feel sick from the 7 reese's peanut butter cups she had earlier on in the day. she's the kind of girl who realizes when she's had enough, but can't seem to make herself stop. in a strange way, she enjoys the floating feeling she lives with permanently. she's the kind of girl  who falls in love with people she can't have. currently she has been falling in love with a close friend's ex. he is not at all handsome and quite arrogant, but when he smiles, his nose does this funny thing that makes it feel real. and he walked her home that one time they met. and when she asked him what his theme song would be, he thought for a long time and said romeo and juliet. he's the one who told her about 'fast car'- it's his favourite. so she sits, in the dim glow of the muted television, listening to 'fast car' on a loop and hazily dreaming.