I am not a graceful person. I am not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2am, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don’t belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn’t happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don’t see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.
carry on my
lay your weary
are you ok
i just realized tater tots is short for potato toddlers and i don’t know how i feel about that
People get drunk
They hook up with the wrong person
And pretend to be okay
People act tough
And get mad
People will do anything to distract their heart.
They will do anything to distract it from missing someone.