I smoke a cigarette.
I sweat three times.
I turn into a ghost.
Description of novel.
She’s not making a lot of money. She’s susceptible to cult shit.
A list of titles to poems I haven’t written yet.
Speak with your eyes full.
A poem to pass the time.
Here’s another title, I never write these. Wow.
I love waking up hungry and ready.
Money can’t buy you self-esteem.
When the tough get cranky.
Another poem about partying.
Another poem about being at home.
Another poem describing feelings.
Top three qualities I would take with me in a fire.
Reasons why I keep getting trolled.
A few good ideas I made myself write down.
I love that it says “trapnation.”
Watching music videos with other people.
Another day, another long distance relationship.
Look ma, I’m floating.
My schedule for the weekend.
Some writing tips for no one.
Things I have to tell myself.
They want to build a lab.
They want to reprogram the environment.
They want to make you palatable.
They don’t want you to win.
At least not in a way that helps you any.
Like time and space and yadda yadda yadda.
I’m sick of repeating myself.
I’m ready to be soft.
I’m ready to be flesh.
I want to take my skin off like fruit from paring knife
in one long continuous spiral.
Let you get to know me better.
I want to show you my ragged seams, that I have nothing to hide
Taking control of my timeline. In the littlest ways possible. With as few expectations as possible.
Don’t equate sex with vulnerability. Don’t be so superficial.
Dig around a little. Get some earth under your fingernails. Take advantage of the open spaces. Analyze my nonconscious input, where my decisions are made. Before I can think about them. Before I can overthink about any of them.
Dried out and oozing. Splayed out and knowing.
You could never disappoint me more than I’ve already disappointed myself.
You could never troll me more than I’ve already trolled myself.
I am available and I am forgiving, and you are random.
Let’s keep it unreal. Let’s keep it accountable.