i used to steal the tiny things from my mom’s craft box when she wasn't looking. never even liked them but now i wonder if that was my first taste of feeling like something was missing and maybe i just wanted to take a piece of her away too.
checked my account after all the bills—like an anxiety punch to the gut, I had 15 dollars left and a week until payday. couldn’t afford the new notebook I needed for my classes, but at least I have coffee—except I had to make it at home.
i agreed to go out tomorrow but now i can’t stop thinking about how it’s probably just going to be awkward small talk, like that one time i lost track of who was who and kept nodding along, trying to figure it out while... the silence creeps in and feels like it’s closing in.
i agreed to go out tomorrow but now i can’t stop thinking about how it’s probably just going to be awkward small talk, like that one time i lost track of who was who and kept nodding along, trying to figure it out while... the silence creeps in and feels like it’s closing in.
you ever spend three years watching your asylum case sit in bureaucratic limbo like a contestant on a reality show that got canceled? it's like being a background extra in the life of others while i perfect the art of couch surfing and staring at walls, oh and not being allowed to WORK legally while people think getting a puppy is the real adulting challenge, like are you kidding me...