'Depression' 'Social Constructs' 'Phones' 'Human connections' 'relationships'
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Cold and brisk out
unlike a standard text
which is just cold
Bold to list out
the type of flesh
which you just sold
I type my poetry
which is a damn
shame really.
It’s a sin.
I should
write in the journal
I stole,
There is one thing I want in this life.
One thing I yearn for,
One thing I long for,
I want the will to speak.
This one thing is an ache
Hermes, could you send this for me?
I need to tell her to get milk and maybe
something for dinner tonight, minestrone?
And Hermes, while you're here, tell
my friends where I am. Take this selfie
Every single night I try to get to bed before 10 o'clock
The social stipulations that lay the groundwork for why I believe
Someone just might want to talk to me if I put my phone down