The last 3 letters of the spring

5:
Gray sky washing over months of living 
slowly dying really
truly insane 
but let's not think about tomorrow 
the future’s bright for those who aren't ready

A man in a white shirt, looking familiar; didn't see his face watching from above; pictured a sharp jawline under his umbrella 

Breadcrumbs on my sweater sticking up for closure—what does that even mean? Is this really over? Okay.

18:13 almost 14 I should head off to yoga. Can I please “accidentally” run into you? Can I please

Ugly building across the street. We had drinks there once—espresso martinis. I couldn't sleep until the morning. You said it was my fault. I am obviously not talking about the martinis

4:
My chest squeezed like a lemon over greenish leaves in a summer salad

Weight in my head
unbearable 
uncaring

The last thing I wanted was to get hurt, but it hurts
tell me how it makes no sense for me to feel this way

My glasses
keeping it all together as if I had a choice; Where does the guilt feel in your body? 
 
3:
The wind howling in the narrow space between the panels of this office window 

The quiet voice now screaming it's all your fault how dare you think you’re innocent. You must be perfect to be loved, but even then it's all dismissive “you are making yourself cry”

The tram

2:
Someone's lunch

Cheap replicas of le labo matcha 26 everywhere

1:
Fear