oh the admiration in falling asleep

I don't even know what to write anymore. If you were standing in front of me, I couldn't tell you what I'm thinking. I couldn't tell you why I don't want to be at my house. I could, but I don't want to talk about it, I guess.

I lay in bed and I think about the next day. What I always always think about before I let myself go to bed is what I want to wear tomorrow. What will make me feel comfortable, happy and myself. You know when you can't seem to drift off to sleep because there's something you've forgotten to do? That's my something. After I think about it, even for a moment, my whole body relaxes and then I'm off to my coma.

I can't imagine not sleeping.

I've started to wear this again, but it doesn't make me feel any better sometimes. Most times it does, actually. I feel safe in it. It's last year, and it's tomorrow and the next days and days. Remember the drawer.

Remember the green beads and shells.

The bottles of soda with the marble.

Your walls.

Your mirror.

Shirts,

shorts,

heap of clothes that you always made sure was gone before I walked in.

I don't know why all of this has suddenly rushed back into my memory.

I don't know.

Sometimes I'm okay with it, until I realize that you're in my head again. But there's this freedom that I love about not having you. Not needing you. Like sitting alone at a play, there's a freedom. Like moving away. Not being known is sort of freeing.

The little home button on my pink and yellow phone. Pushing that is so. freeing.

Who's going to fill those shoes? Sometimes I don't like to think about it. I don't. Where are my statues going to fall? Who's going to build my city?

I'm not completely alone. I'm always under their wings. Under your. wings.

I couldn't say this if I were to try.