Seventeen

Here she comes, You better watch your step.

She's going to break your heart in two. It's true.

It's not hard to realize, just look into her false colored eyes.

She'll build you up, just to knock you down.

Cause everybody knows,

She's a Femme Fatal

The things she does to please,

She's a Femme Fatal

She's such a little tease,

She's a Femme Fatal

See the way she walks,

She's a Femme Fatal

Hear the way she talks.

I love this song. That lazy voice, whispery through the old recording. Some people don't know music, music that pulses and breathes . Music I can see, faces and colors, small memories being sparked and twisted. Replaying parts of my life over and over as I fall asleep.

Music of that drama trip, that girl, those smelly boys. That one house party, with the buckfast on the carpet. Crying at Him, screaming at him, as he's vomiting. Music as I dance, arms twirling skirt flying, drink splashing. Everyone's hugging, everyone's so amazing. Music as I cry, as I feel my heart throbbing, my body shaking, my breathing stopping. Music of that boy with daft hair as he quotes Macbeth to be, of my brother and his band. Of BigHim and his goofy jeans, Listen please listen. New Year Music, Plush music, Car music. Music with heat pumping through it, Music with notes as old as Edinburgh. Music of lying on the concrete holding hands, as the boards fly past us. Her giving them the fingers. Of hoodies and pencil skirts. Hot boy music, with collars up and army boots. Music of my Dad, old and acoustic, Music for my mum, highly sung, soprano. Reaching, I can reach that note.

Music to love, to hate, to cry, to smile, to dance. Music that has my name imprinted all over it.