i don’t grieve when my layers shed.
it’s all a part of my monthly rebirth.
i’m a split yolk,
milk teeth hanging on by a thread,
all the texts i wouldn’t send.
stability stings like tweezing splinters.
i don’t want my mother to recognize me.
eighteen has been screaming change since day one.
i can’t teach myself how to smoulder.
Jan 29, 2020
Jan 29, 2020 at 8:50 AM UTC
i don’t grieve when my layers shed.
it’s all a part of my monthly rebirth.
i’m a split yolk,
milk teeth hanging on by a thread,
all the texts i wouldn’t send.
stability stings like tweezing splinters.
i don’t want my mother to recognize me.
eighteen has been screaming change since day one.
i can’t teach myself how to smoulder.
