God, stupid parents
How’s work? Boyfriend? Pretend to
care but want me gone.
Moved back home
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God, stupid parents
How’s work? Boyfriend? Pretend to
care but want me gone.
Afterwards, tissue
paper frail, we try hard not
to tear each other.
Where does time go? Clock
hands a band-aid over the
wounds of past regrets.
as told to Evernote this morning
writing the story
of my life so far only
seeing blank pages
The man who fell to
earth left us too soon, stardust
in Major Tom’s wake.
Dandelion seed
responsibilities float
away on each breath
A’s dream–a fairy
cottage in the woods–simply
too good to be real.
Like a dorm room on
four wheels, it’s a place to get
drunk stoned laid changed sleep.
Forgotten summer
umbrella aged by winter’s
wig of heavy snow.
Ate bad stuff. Gained weight.
Hate myself. Still, I think, There’s
always tomorrow…