Writing

may,
nearly beginning of summer

to celebrate, I wear fishnet tights with stars and moons,
a Nasa t-shirt,
and a moon necklace.

new season of summer, fast approaching.

This summer I will sleep in.

This summer I will enjoy the sunshine.

This summer I will enjoy the rain.

This summer I will listen to the sounds of thunder.

i will meet you on the soiled floor with splintered knees and pointless pinkie promises, bearing the gruesome girth of your loveless little lies / forever fighting to quench my thirst, but your roots will always remain sodden / they say

If I could run away I’d be gone. I’d clamber up the fence onto the roof and take off running. I’d bound up into the air and across the fields of puffy white clouds, bouncy and weightless. 

9 PM,

a minty smell wavering over my just-brushed teeth,

fragile bubbles of soap curling on my fingertips and the sink,

10 PM,

curling up on the bed with a worn book,

I wonder about a lot of things. Sometimes I wonder so much that I have to block out my questions before they overwhelm me entirely, filling my mind so there’s no room for anything besides queries and doubt and uncertainty.