first storm in summer

lightning nine miles over

the door's half off its hinges

I doubt the landlords will fix it, though they could.

there is nothing i'd rather do than wake up in your room.

if you have a headache we can leave the lights off all day and all night.

okay? okay.

but for now I wake up

all twisted in sofa

throw alyssa's stream up

be parasocial, say good morning lotad

I'm sick of all my dreams being formerly normal things

if god ever lets me back, I swear I'll do so much better.

I am praying for a storm. rip off the goshdarn door

with an endless gust of wind and ceaseless stream of texts sent and saying:

I'm here. here. here.