Literature
Hypotheticals
I could talk about myself forever, you know.
I could lean across the lounge, lay my head on your shoulder and just breathe myself into your skin
and maybe you’d be too drunk to hear the mumbling.
I wouldn’t care. I’d make believe that you were listening.
I’m not a liar
but I don’t know if I’m honest, either
people say twenty-something like it’s supposed to carry meaning
and I’ve never, I never, I’ll never fit in.
When I was six I tricked my classmates into thinking I had a real nose ring.
I danced without care. I won a prize just for smiling.
I wish I was still that girl
Instead of a bundl