i’m simply satisfactory at slaving on social skills.

i can bullshit a line but intimacy makes my spine tingle.

“i wanted to be a boy forever,” peter said as he banged his head outside neverland.

the sun has spread the melanin in my skin and now i’m a little more than american.

AA meetings w/my dad at the dinner table, telling him he’s a little shameful.

raunchy talks w/big bruv, hope he doesn’t get sentenced too long.

resting up my writing arm because i only speak about nostalgic stuff.

not to be negative, but nearly every version of me is misunderstood.

sanity is passionately being eaten by vanity.

can i have this soul, you speak of?

i dream of you a thousand times while i’m still awake.

sunburned skin mistaken for sun bathed femme.

i love the sound of pounding headaches after a long day.

why do i seem to be so lonely?