i woke up butter-side down,
plugging in the USB 'cause my phone's dead
cable twists, third time's a charm.
maybe i'll get up and water my cactus
but it'll survive without it too.
maybe it was the contrast of autumn crunch
beneath my processed self yesterday
that makes me look for meaning under my shoe.
i'm addicted to watching people
outside this one tucked-away building
like they're birds in migration.
maybe it's how dawn's lazy light
seems to kick up dust
and start a waltz above my textbooks.
sometimes it's how cars stop at red lights
that makes me remember how it's one faded line
that's capable of stealing a conscience.
maybe it's the fact i didn't capitalise words here
that makes my spaghetti train of thought
weigh a little less on my head.
turning the tv on loud, losing the remote
that looks like a 5 year old tattooed images on it
and finding a lipgloss behind the couch instead.
i wonder who lived here before this morning.
it's pretty funny to see my stanzas getting longer
knowing how my older self will squint her eyes when proofreading
as if the words have something stuck in between their teeth.
i'll leave the house - keys, wallet, phone
venture out into some sight-beaten unknown
while my alarm clock holds its breath.
but that's all for later -
for now, i'll water the cactus.
Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 10:51 AM UTC
i woke up butter-side down,
plugging in the USB 'cause my phone's dead
cable twists, third time's a charm.
maybe i'll get up and water my cactus
but it'll survive without it too.
maybe it was the contrast of autumn crunch
beneath my processed self yesterday
that makes me look for meaning under my shoe.
i'm addicted to watching people
outside this one tucked-away building
like they're birds in migration.
maybe it's how dawn's lazy light
seems to kick up dust
and start a waltz above my textbooks.
sometimes it's how cars stop at red lights
that makes me remember how it's one faded line
that's capable of stealing a conscience.
maybe it's the fact i didn't capitalise words here
that makes my spaghetti train of thought
weigh a little less on my head.
turning the tv on loud, losing the remote
that looks like a 5 year old tattooed images on it
and finding a lipgloss behind the couch instead.
i wonder who lived here before this morning.
it's pretty funny to see my stanzas getting longer
knowing how my older self will squint her eyes when proofreading
as if the words have something stuck in between their teeth.
i'll leave the house - keys, wallet, phone
venture out into some sight-beaten unknown
while my alarm clock holds its breath.
but that's all for later -
for now, i'll water the cactus.
Request permission to use this poem