this is how the end of the world is measured:
in every dream of normalcy,
& I’m racking them up.
I told my mother that I dreamt of skipping school,
& she asked if I ever had,
so this is how one justifies lying to their mother:
protection, because this is how she justifies lying to me,
& if I told her it all she wouldn’t understand her child anymore.
my naivety is fading & all I am left to do is miss:
not knowing how to be in love with someone,
& not knowing how to love anyone afterwards.
I have been treading water in puddles of false habit for a while now,
& it only took an overflowing of disarray to realize.
(I am glorifying false versions of myself)
[all anyone can ever be is human]
there should be more synonyms for all,
more encompassing words to mean so much at once.
my Animal Crossing creatures have begun ballroom dancing,
& all I want are moonlit nights, weekdays,
choking on whispers & stars we can’t see from the city,
blisters covering our ankles.
we are evolving through each state of madness,
(the current is:)
in which we forget that lying in the street could ever be dangerous.