Goldenrose

Long live the dead we prop ourselves up on, 

The cane we pass off as our leg. 

Long live the gods that money trickles down from, 

• I have not even met all of me left
• The ocean understands a part of me I always keep hidden
• I will always escape to nature and never you
• I keep trying to tell you it's been a while since I've been me
• The less I

My head cold waits at my bedroom windowsill 

Tells me: 

‘No, you can’t do your homework. Lie back down and quit thinking so much.’ 

Tells me: 

i toured six different colleges over the past week

& i didn't care about the clubs