Showing posts with label day 11. Show all posts
Showing posts with label day 11. Show all posts

Friday, January 10, 2014

what exactly is your job?

text messages feel like poems
and moments throughout the waves of days that i cannot remember

i slept late
need more
bones ache
head aches

are the next couple years the ones where i don't sleep?
collect wrinkles and piece together a mirage of stability and career?
open an ira and prepare for retirement?

unprepared.
                   fuck responsibility.