I’m sleeping in irony and a false sense of glory.
When the morning light touches my face I retreat
farther into my own head. It’s safer there,
inside my skull. Not even the scratching at my door
can move me from this mattress on the floor.
Prose, Poetry, Punk Rock and Politics via Philadelphia, PA. I'm 21 and in college. Life is kind of weird. You're welcome to live it vicariously with me.
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why did I decide to post this at 12:30?
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ironic-interests liked this
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pooooge said:
hi kendall
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deadwithmyfriends posted this
