late

i am tired.

i'm picking fights for no reason.
nothing new.

i never had a reason to do anything, ever.

wearing boots in bed,
braiding the same fucking piece of hair,
waiting for time to go faster,
so i can go home.

"home".

there are certain people who,
i think,
i might be sick
if i see.

oh, you.

(what do you think you are doing, hm?)