I still remember
your breath sweet like oranges
and your fingers bitter like their rinds.

freshman yr melodramatic journal snippets

basically, i wuz ~deep~

“i hate the color of this ink but it is a borrowed pen”

“i saw god drunk on the L train and he pissed his pants”

“THE DEVIL’S IN THE DIRT AND
THE DIRT IS ON YR HANDS
YR ARM AROUND A FRIEND’S BACK-
GO ON BRUSH YA SHOULDAS OFF”

“you hang overhead, pendant on a chain of stars,
change the season change the tide, o!”

“HOW LUCKY IS THE SLEEPING
CHILD WHOSE EYES ARE STILL
WHOSE BED NOT WET
WHO’S NOT CONDEMNED
TO THIS EXISTENCE OF
PARANOID PACE AND
DOUBTFUL MEANDERING
A GLASS OF WATER
MUST TASTE SO FINE
WHEN ONE CANNOT SEE
THE FLOATING SPECK INSIDE.”