and i eat men like air.


Grappling with the idea of temporal permanence, all the while the world is waiting to be saved on the next line.

Our young protagonist is a surprisingly genuine social justice advocate whose dedication to anthropology and sociology converts her naive excitement into bitter, aged acceptance day by day.

She enjoys finding a half smoked camel at the bottom of a pack, movies where the good guy gets ahead, stealing your pleather bomber jacket, and insomnia.

(i got 99 problems and they all bitches)


Pictures you took of me always made me look sadder than I actually was.  But I do miss this.  I miss Sally I miss that flask I miss sitting on that bench across from the bagel store pregaming the WestMUNC dance with her.  I miss her telling me that I looked good in skirts.  I miss us stumbling past Mr. Stephens and laughing and dancing and having contests to see who could make out with more people in one night (you won that particular dance). But now you’re an adult and I’m still some haphazard young adult vagabond floating around somewhere in the midwest while you help the old people in Boca with their bad backs. Last time I was in this city I was with you.  Feels like you should still be here.

Pictures you took of me always made me look sadder than I actually was.  But I do miss this.  I miss Sally I miss that flask I miss sitting on that bench across from the bagel store pregaming the WestMUNC dance with her.  I miss her telling me that I looked good in skirts.  I miss us stumbling past Mr. Stephens and laughing and dancing and having contests to see who could make out with more people in one night (you won that particular dance).

But now you’re an adult and I’m still some haphazard young adult vagabond floating around somewhere in the midwest while you help the old people in Boca with their bad backs.

Last time I was in this city I was with you.  Feels like you should still be here.