I made tea
I made tea this morning.
I put the leaves in, watching the steam dance with childlike wonder.
I returned to my laptop, staring at a half finished chapter, the bags under my eyes more apparent than ever.
I made tea this morning.
I put the leaves in, watching the steam dance with childlike wonder.
I returned to my laptop, staring at a half finished chapter, the bags under my eyes more apparent than ever.
my leg is a rotting log and i am stumps
i am stumps which are crawling with the little maggots
the little white slimy maggots which are crawling under my skin
Do I know the subtle, the shallow things in life?
Or is it merely my destiny forever to be seeking
That which is not ours to see?
At parties I sit quiet and calculate my words
I avoid the eyes of guys and stare at my phone.
After all that hiding,
dissatisfaction feels like heartburn,
Protest after protest,
chant after chant.
I watch and listen
as people continuously fight for their rights.
But the fighting should’ve been over
on July 4th, 1776
when it was declared that
I get it, you have it worse,
I get it, you're in pain,
I get it, I don't matter,
Not to you, anyway.
So when you call my name,
I shall fast come running,
Leave myself behind,
Even as I'm losing time.
I'm tired of the yelling,
I just wish that it would stop.
And I'm tired of the lectures,
Saying all I am is wrong.
I’m tired of the bruises,
And these voices in my head.
I’m afraid of the dark
And the art
I haven’t made
The places not stayed
And the overstayed welcomes I
Know not to inhale the stratosphere keep
Both feet on the ground
And look straight ahead
It's 12:34 AM on July 5th, 2025 and I still see fireworks going off in the sky.
I hear the booms, the bangs, the commotion of endless fireworks
going on for hours
still raging
on a brand new day.
I'm smiling to myself,
remembering,
reminiscing,
the good times.
The times where it was you,
and me,
against the world.
Who would stop us?
"listen close,"
you spoke as we lay sprawled out on the grass.
the festival's lights were bright.
the first firework of the night shot up.
"what comes first,"
"the boom or the light?"
Will Byers fell in love with his best friend Mike Wheeler.
Mike Wheeler was not in love with him back.
Mike Wheeler fell in love with a new girl with psionic abilities
Whose name was the number Eleven