I let my phone die so I could experience something

and I can’t tell If its 9 am or 12 in the afternoon
and I’m looking at the light coming from under my black curtains

and I’m squinting my eyes and watching the whole world blur
which is just how I’ve always liked it
so today is no different

I’m writing myself sick and drawing pictures of the hole in your lip
and the freckles on the back of your ears

and I didn’t mean to make this poem about you
but I wasn’t in the mood to tell you I love you either

and I ******* hate sunsets they make me far too sad

and I’m kind of wishing
I could just let the sun burn out my vision once and for all

then all I would have left is the simplicity of dreams

and I still wish you broke all of your bones