175 i've picked myself up off the floor and heard the dawn break against the door

hey i'm alright. maybe it's not about whether i'm happy or sad, maybe it's about the face i see in the mirror. not the dark undereye circles or the little chickenpox scar on my cheek but what's behind my eyes. if i let it, the sun shines from somewhere inside and it kisses the world with memories of bright sky and sweet wet grass. but only if i let it.



every time i get a text from you my stomach does these little flips and sweet merciful jesus i feel like i'm in middle school again. tomorrow you're going to teach me to play guitar and we're going to watch a movie at your house and there are little tiny shocks going through my body, everywhere.