You have the coordination of a drunk person when you’re 100% sober.
Because at 2 am, last call was just announced and, these days, goodbyes are a little too reminiscent of death.
Anxiety looks like my hands. Chaotic. Messy. Sort of gross, if we’re being honest.
Patience, hard work, compassion. You encompassed these traits early on.
You scream at me for all the poems. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
The best part of covfefe is it can be whatever you want it to be! A noun, a verb, song lyrics, a state of being.
IT WAS A PARTY FULL OF DOGS!!!!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?
In this version, I pick up the phone and our hearts stutter in unison. Nothing is left unsaid. Nothing is left untouched.
The daughter of the troop leader was drunk with power.
Lovers leave. Significant others screw up. This person wasn’t supposed to. This person was supposed to be your safe place.