There’s something indescribably depressing about doing homework on a Friday night.
Bored. Out. Of. My. Mind.
Also, I hate how waiting on your text is the only thing getting me through the night. Just thinking about how dependent on you I’ve become scares the shit out of me.
dad is an atlas
so we keep discovering
new places where he does not exist,
like in the bodies
of all the men we have ever
tried to love