part of me believes we won’t make it past February. I’ve never made it to Valentine’s day with anyone, much less the altar. I don’t trust my judgement. My brain relies on sleep-deprived emotions rather than rationality.
I am afraid of boredom. I am afraid of a lack of communication.
I think I like doomed relationships better. Like a prison sentence that you know will end next weekend so you can get comfortable with the free food and cable.
Beginnings are so pretty.
keep me tethered
twin moons, orbiting
I no longer get drunk off stars only
high on the laws
anxiety is an unpleasant and
the dark underbelly of love
bites into my flesh