April
30
Summery
At the pier
Aged twenty-one
I have run out of words
As a child they could not keep me from the national curriculum
I knew pain
Shards amongst the pebbles
And waking to see skeletons burning in the distance
But more intoxicating
We’ve been inseperable since
Adjacent to punk
Now I’m meditating and sleepily counting syllables
But I survived that night so I knew I was here for the long run
Facepalming at my work station
Felt like a new world
Mapping my way
In my glitter scrunchie
Halting my bolting body
A pear, a pear
Faux fur coats in the style of a spice girl
Newly-dyed orange hair
