Forty days can be converted to a month and nine days or three million, four hundred fifty six thousand seconds, or fifty seven thousand six hundred minutes of nine hundred and sixty hours or forty days, or five weeks (rounded down because it is only Monday)
I haven’t cried in 24 hours. I’ve only eaten cereal in bed
oncetwice in seventy two hours
My roommate sings like a Louisana summer. I burned my sweet potatoes, but they still look like Christmas. If I drank better tequila, would you love me? I wish I could’ve written, “If I drank better tequila, would you still love me?” Still is my favorite qualifier. You are a car idling outside my apartment window at strange hours. I think about opening my wrists. I miss your cock. The two aren’t related. Did you tell your therapist about me? What did she have to say about bloody girls with hummingbird hearts? Do you ever feel your father clawing up from your throat?