Some people are indecisive,
some are just too indecisive.
From the choice of pen to
oh wait, pencils are better
a question about where really
are you going to write---because if you
use your new diary, you might come up with
a better idea for it later so just maybe scribble it online--
whatever you want to, that is
just, type it.
And shopping? That's the worst thing.
Cafeterias? Don't ask!
A fresh apple juice or a strawberry shake or soda or
oh wait, ice-cream? What do you want?
Um, I need time.
Blue dress, green dress, no dress? You need a dress?
Happy with your course? Life, where
are you going*?!

Rain fell in commotions—
The birds would have none of it,
The moon bellowed in ghostly white,
Faced in the sprite, ringing indifference
Of low fading stars, trees in posted dark
Scratched the grasslands of the fallen
Firmaments and the small creatures
That are holed up in days, scurried
With the creep of night and moan
Of oceans slide, mangled clouds
Clutched the murky burn of sky
And smallish eyes everywhen
Shuddered in the frosts
Of a shuttering rose.

So now you're gone with happiness and independence.
I'm stuck with baggy eyes and these cliche *** romantic comedies.
From time to time I stare at clocks and think about what he had that I didn't.
I wear watches now, not bracelets.