For someone so #blessed, I admit I want everything.
Another dog and someone to train the one I have, as well as years worth of free food.
*Spoilers ahead* but what I really desire is to be rich and mostly bored
Like a pony eating oysters.
My new thing is not caring if I sound smart, I used to spiral about it.
These days I’m actively committed to being whatever.
When I saw how much the girls made on Instagram.
Who do I DM to prove I’m just as photogenic next to
Diuretic lollipops? Hi everyone!
If you want to see me write a poem, let me know in the comments below.
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Do we think I should make a Patreon account?
But I am so decadently lazy.
Is it my fault no one’s discovered how good I am at selfies
And writing these poems? Attached is my invoice for eight thousand dollars.
Dear Kendall Jenner, this one is for you.
Writing about Texicanas, a Bravo show about the wealthy women of San Antonio who’ve perfected on-screen Spanglish bitching, I wrote about one star in particular, a boxer from Sonora.
And like all the clickbait gossip I write on any weekday, I forgot about this explainer too, returned it to the internet.
Luz wrote me today and a flash of electricity yawned through my sedentary summer body. It yawned open like a city. Not New York, but San Antonio or perhaps Sonora, and a reality show that starred the boxer and me unfolded inside my mind.
Luz and I held each other and it was televised. No one cheated or fought on screen. We held each other and we watched the rain.
I miss you, I said to my flowers.
Dying is literally
The only thing you do.