Striped warm fuzzy pants.
Home fries. Coffee. Coffee. Potato.
Lay down. Roll over.
Remote. Click, click, click, click.
Fuck Netflix. Repeat.
Neck hurts. Don’t wanna stretch.
Wanna be comfortable.
Wanna saunter into every room.
Yeah, like my wedding day.
Happy as fuck.
All the fucking time.
So happy it doesn’t hurt.
Slide in sideways to my natural state.
A moment of silence while I
In and out of paisley flavored cloud shaped congratulations.
Dew blasts of kisses on my face.
My natural state.
I remember being little and running and squeals.
I remember high.
Toes touching cotton candy puppies in the sky.
And so fast it ached so good.
Crown on floor.
More hugs and kisses and I wanna smash your face in because I love you so much!
Get some of your skin under my fingernails by accident.
Maybe. Maybe on purpose.
My head under her chin.
Her voice waking me from the nap on her chest.
Giggles with the girls. Her girls. Her heart.
Blisters from a burn.
Wet tear face cheek face.
I’m fine. Can I go run now?
I want sugar. I have a stash.
It’s in a Ziploc bag behind the dishwasher.
I lick my finger and stick it in this private thing I’ve claimed.
It’s mine because it’s a secret.
All secrets are mine.
If I tell you then it’s ours and I don’t want to share.
…just not everything.
Stay out of my room. Don’t touch my things.
Here, take this.
Put it on.
It looks good on you.
Get the fuck out.