☆☆☆

i cannot keep my room clean but i can try outfits on until one makes me look like a coke bottle, like i'm so sweet inside i'd rot your teeth. i can open drawers up, looking for the medicine, or the pregnancy test or my last tiny hope and just... forget to push them closed again. i can eat a meal or three when i'm high and drunk on the carpet with the love of my life and neglect the empty plates (because who likes anything empty). i can build stacks of notebooks filled with poetry and half-forgotten dreams. i can throw things on the floor because i'm angry, i'm lazy, i'm on my period, i'll put them away tomorrow, i have to leave in 5 minutes... because i forgot to build the right circuit in my brain a long long time ago, and i'm tired. i'm so tired.