Sleeping on Floors
I’ve been lacking inspiration and Command Strips. I’ve been eating chocolate cake for breakfast and breakfast for dinner. What is it about carbon dioxide and too many hangovers that makes seltzer more desirable than bottles of liquid on the shelf above the cutting board cabinet? I’m searching for a spot to claim by the third floor window next to the rug on the living room floor where I slept. I need somewhere to lose my mind don’t mind me I’m just throwing bottles into the sea and waiting for an invite. Fruits and veggies can’t share a bowl I’m learning neighbors can be friends if you save them half a portion of leftover pizza and plan another plant stealing heist. Be a dear let me know how to properly hang a tapestry and where to find a nice Italian guy before the October chill rolls in. There’s not enough space at the table for us and our painted paper plates we’ll go to our places by the window with a view of the beat up bricks and rejected trampoline. In this place I’m alone with my jean skirt my adidas and my thoughts. Does mom know I’m here?
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