I’m always tired.
I’m always at least half asleep.
Blemish and state how I don’t feel great now.
I don’t hang out in her hair.
I don’t wonder if she cares.
I lay awake now, I entertain my plans
To one day miraculously be talkative and likable,
To wake up as someone else, someone I know is inside of me,
Just waiting to be put to use by something much more sharp than us.
They pry out every fucking piece and still they’re coming around again.
i’m into really low commitment hangouts like lying on the floor near each other or falling asleep together or falling into an endless void together
I’m totally an anxious mess all the time. There’s a constant dialogue going on in my brain, and it’s just reminding me of all the failures that I have had, and all of the things I need to do, and all of the things I’m not doing good enough.
And someday there will be a door frame that watches you come and go and that person will be a door frame, like me.