dew-covered moth #4b
hello. bill murray / michael jordan. trucknite. bathroom escapade. goodbye. drinkdrankpunk. table golf. cavern cold. russian slam-down. no phone tag / no voicemail / no guts. front door / kitchen slip / bathroom smash. sleepyhead.
bed-rider. good riddance. how i met you. family #2. house echo.
bed-rider. good riddance. how i met you. family #2. house echo. poem.
goodnight. gnight. godnight.
hi hi hi. it’s been a while, tumblar.
just drove back to amherst from cambridge, for the cantab lounge’s poetry night. i spent 35 dollars on gas, and wrote half a poem.
half of me is sleepy. the other half is too lit up with questions and arguments to consider sleep a tangible thing for another 7 hours.
*shift of tone and subject matter and target audience*
i am not a bird. i have never been a bird. do not forget that i often write about killing them. this is not a coincidence. i do not want to be 1/7. i want to be the only one that matters, and i don’t think that’s unfair. that’s what you are.
I removed all the Coyotes and Wolves songs from the blog. Next time you want to say something, say it to my face.
send another facebook message, BITCH.
[or was it food?]
the point is, I’m sitting in class, writing poems about girls and worrying about what this summer will feel like. i am already terrified. i have a feeling it will get worse. i hope i’m wrong.
listening to: science lady blathering
wishing i were listening to: give up the ghost- “we’re down ‘til we’re underground”