Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
nance Nov 2019
i think every night
tomorrow i'll be real
and stop acting like a fool.
i'll be my serious self,
leave the sugar at the door.

yet with the sun comes
the amnesia
"who am i?"
those three precious seconds,
then
"oh no"
i remember.

i dread the day.
the brushing of teeth
drinking of water
checking of phone
eating of pasta i will never finish

— The End —