so I found this box in the back of my closet filled with stuff from my past—old love letters, random mementos, and now I am sitting here trying to figure out which version of myself I should have been rooting for because I can't remember who any of those people were. it's like digging up a graveyard of dreams and all I have left are bad puns from terrible jokes that make me cringe but also kind of...
sitting on this park bench all day, watching everyone walk by with their coffees and laptops, sometimes it feels like im the only one without a purpose. saw a guy my age in a suit laughing on a call about some big promotion, and im just here waiting for the sun to go down so i can go back to the shelter.
so i overheard my neighbor talking about how she bought new furniture and was like thinking how am i still here with my beat-up couch and that awful coffee table i found on the curb, just makes me feel worse about my place when they casually drop that kind of info.
so i overheard my neighbor talking about how she bought new furniture and was like thinking how am i still here with my beat-up couch and that awful coffee table i found on the curb, just makes me feel worse about my place when they casually drop that kind of info.
woke up to another empty fridge, same old struggle juggling deliveries while waiting for a text from my sibling who's always posting their new job promo and i can’t even remember the last time i had a full meal, let alone a decent night's sleep, and the neighbors with their loud parties just remind me how much i'm missing out on while i wash another set of sheets stained from care routines like it...