11/28

My edges are getting melty,
The rounded drips hit the floor gently as the mirror nods most agreeably at the transformation.
I start to spin,
Faster and faster,
My arms stretched out wide,
Spraying my surroundings until they start to drip too.

Stir Crazy

My fingertips are chronically cold,
and the fake fireplace makes a negligible difference.
Everything is turning red and green,
Except the black, grey sky that never seems to recede.

Blink, blink!

Red light,
Green light,
One, two, three..
I swear that guy's sneakers just grew eyes and started staring at me.

Maybe I'm going a bit stir crazy.

11/10

I can't seem to motivate myself somehow,
and genuinely, I feel pretty weak right now,
but C's get degrees,
so surely I will graduate eventually,
and the creases will continue to deepen at the sides of my eyes,
but no longer from the deadlines imposed by those that do not see me for me.