an update

i am 17 years old 

i do bad things

drugs & sex & theft

& no one hums lullabies

settling for toleration

letting the wrong people connect constellations on my skin

they always burn out

they always burn out

collapsing on velvet couches

god i hate sleeping alone

i am 18 years old

the bad thoughts still linger

though not as often anymore

& voices like violets

cradle me throughout the night

i crawl back in bed

morning always comes

thank you to all the beautiful people

thank you for all the beautiful poems

i can now find the little dipper 

take it easy ( but please love something )


i am 19 years old
but sometimes i accidentally say i'm 17
there is ivy growing outside my window
& i hope to grow with it
maybe we could reach the sun
may passed & i hardly felt anything
but i still keep your address locked in a drawer
i don't want to be stoned
i don't want to be stoned
this world constantly amazes me with it's beauty
but still i want to turn it all off