“and yet it moves .”

• climb a tree

• scream at the sun

• become mortal enemies with a squirrel

• eat moss

.･:*:･ﾟ’✫,’✫’ﾟ･:*:･˙ lavender girls: pressed flowers. elaborate skincare routine. the one with perfect eyebrows. stargazing. charming to the core. oddly knows a lil bit of everything. indulges in fancy tea. soft hair. looks intimidating but is the exact opposite. silver lockets.

`*:;,．★ ⌒ ☆・:.,;* sage girls: spontaneous road trips. somehow always late for everything. the smell of fresh linen. witty remarks. always has earphones on. long dark eyelashes. lip biting constantly. talks to the moon. lace lingerie. glittery eyeshadow. hair held up with noir ribbons.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ* clove girls: excessive baby pink blush. gives everyone the benefit of the doubt. cursive handwriting. early morning showers. fairy lights. head in the clouds. finds romance in everything. old french films. eyes of honey. collects pretty perfume boxes. dewy skin.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. cinnamon girls: old bookstores. messy buns. morning sun seeping through blinds. writes in a diary every night. a lil sad inside. baby soft skin. warm hugs. craves for adventure. candid polaroids. afternoons in the library. oversized sweaters.

You need another English credit. You already have thousands of English credits. They fill up your room and chase you down the street. You are drowning. You need another English credit.

You have an essay due tomorrow. You always have an essay due tomorrow. Tomorrow never comes. You must keep working on the essay. It’s due tomorrow.

Everyone is getting undercuts. Under what? You are never sure what lies Beneath. But sometimes, you see the Void.

You need classes in different areas for a full education. You go to these areas. Your feet are blistered and bleeding. You must find all the areas. 

There is a Party In The Woods. It is exactly like the last one. You fear you are stuck in a time loop, but by then it is too late. Someone sells you a plastic cup of PBR for five dollars. 

You know everyone on campus. Their faces, their tattoos, and their souls. You start walking with your eyes closed: you do not want to see. 

There are sports teams. They whisper restlessly around the edges of campus. If you look directly at them, they disappear. But once in a while, you can hear them scream. You do not know if it is celebratory or scared. 

Straight boys feel alone. There are so few of them. There are straight boys everywhere you look. They feel so alone. 

“This way is more environmentally sound,” they say. You can hear the environmental sound. It sounds like Nicki Minaj.