How Many Times I’ve Said I Love You This Week: 5

genuinely what the fuck is the point

Me: “okay the day is finally over and I can finally go to sleep”

My brain: “hey what if they drop nukes”

i must not kill myself . killing myself is the myself killer

“Oh I’m so excited for my friends birthday pool party!”

My arms/shoulders: 😈

Question

How fucked up of a poem is too fucked up to post

negative affirmations

I can be worse

I still have time to fuck things up

I can kms any time I want

shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up

Plan A: transition, marry my bf, get better at writing and turn it into a job

Plan B:

Is it bad that I don’t even give a shit about politics anymore

Like ok cool a new bad thing happened who’s surprised nobody great let’s move on

Nothing I can fucking do about it

I’m fucking exhausted