comforts of assumptions and reiterated traction within nothing like presumptuous consumption wrapped around, engulfed in told entirely - in all of its entirety, left among a cold untouched impression of forgotten yet perpetually experienced emotion, indignation on the paper like an unexposed proposal to ever stagnat motion

sitting next to me she pointed to the keychain - smiling with a stranger like giggling at recess, how lucky, how lucky
the sky was not there when i went to the courtyard but instead a new set of stairs to a new set of bricks and cold quesadillas
i always thought loitering meant staying the night but i promise to tarry forever, how lucky, how lucky, i shouldt say such things i know, but how hard to resist when i hear someone on the other side on the other pane of glass, oh how lucky, how lucky, i look forward

shes always been interested in dental hygeine. brought together by zero dollars but you cannot put a numeral on kindness

long sleeve silver chain you feel like something different. does it matter will it change i think im going missing. im afraid that whats becoming bitter jaded pessimistic, crawling all that i had fallen the time had finally came

i had to take off my glasses when i tried to convey the depth of it. its not that im nearsighted its just that the lenses are not crystal, if thays clear. transparent like the ice inside a silicone tray, would you decline to drink the sky? stars do softly clinking inside a waterbottle, the flavor of the universe converging in my palms and concentrated night pouring from my eyes - do you understand?

if i told you id like it if we all studied together would you report me. would you call me out would you say it to my face could we have a conversation or would you even notice. perhaps youre too busy tutoring the student that is nice but never studies. perhaps all you can see is the potential or is it really just the past. i feel like you are holding on too tightly to something that wont return i feel like i am lying i am reading too closely i am angry i am jealous i am overanalyzing the text but she wouldnt tear the paper for you, couldnt hold the brush. but i guess thats just not what everyone wants.

a flock carried the horizon across the window and i think about what i wanted to look at in that mirror when the covers were reflective of nothing in particular. i dont think that this is entirely sustainable but i cant bring myself to anything different