22 on March seventh. Agender, demisexual...
I go by a couple different names. I'm writing this on the 112th anniversary of the crossword puzzle. I'm a little too wary of being perceived, to the point the panopticon follows me when i'm alone and only rarely can i meet myself. Or, selves. Unclear. I live in a house of other trans punks. There's a cat here, too. There's a photo i have saved from when my partner was harsh to me while we were on shrooms- she's holding a very broken roach between her index and thumb on the stairsteps of said house. I'm missing a front tooth and have only recently tried wearing skirts. I don't really want anyone to know about this website.
trees, mountains, Anne Carson, Mary Oliver, Bruce Springsteen,
Vapes. Smoke analog or i'm not fucking you. I hate the smell of them more than anything. Go outside to smoke or awkwardly crane your neck out an open window like the rest of us. I want the musk of a cigarette or joint, not a nauseating peach-ring glowstick.