(no subject)

[prelusive]

I’m not sure when I’ll be ready to go home with anyone. The boy crush and I talked a lot at the party. I smoked too many cigarettes and got too drunk too fast, while we sat on the radiator. Then I took a nap on the couch in the hidden room for awhile and Dylan turned off the light. When I went back out to the party, he was gone. He said our kiss last week was sloppy, and I apologized for ignoring him. I’ve been so busy with homework, and friends that mean something real to me. Maybe we will hang out Tuesday, but I’m not sure I care. Sometimes things are not worth my time and energy. He says he likes the occult.

I run away from everyone that pays me a lick of attention.

When will I stop being so awkward? I can't tell if I'm still drunk.

In my defense, I fucking hate poetry.