Sometimes at night I would sleep open-eyed underneath a sky dripping with stars. I was alive then.
I’m just so bored with myself and the way I look and what I see and when will my reflection show who I am inside
We are not special. We are not crap or trash, either. We just are. We just are, and what happens just happens.
*cracks an egg on my head* *a lemon falls out* What a time to be alive