I lay there on the futon, the bits of salt and pretzel
stuck in the skin on my back while the box fan rattles and blows,
and I think to myself:
I’ll bet death is just LIKE this.
I drank a triple espresso and four cups of coffee today.
My heart is beating out of my fucking chest.















Comments
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"Stand firm in your refusal to remain conscious during algebra
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Dear god I need cotton swabs.
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