I keep f***ing it up I keep tearing through what I’m supposed to preserve.
I keep trying to be good but I’m stupid and I am selfish
and I’m stumbling through the hallway with my shoes in my hands because the ground is tilting and

vodka and 6 inch heels and pretending to be an adult is making me sick.

I’m watching cartoons at 1 in the morning and I can hear my mom’s voice.
I’m watching some Italian movie but I’m not following along because I’m texting some Belgian boy I met at a hotel a few months ago and I can see your face.
I want to call you.
I want to make no sense.
I want to kiss the mole right above your lip.
I want to run my hands through your thick black hair.
Did you know I love your new haircut?
Did you know I can’t stop thinking about your new haircut?
Did you know I saw a stranger with the exact same haircut last week and caught myself hoping it was you but I knew damn well it wasn’t but I wanted to be in love with that person.

I keep f***ing it up
I can’t f*** this up, 

I can't f*** up.

I think I’ll call someone right now and tell them a secret.

I don’t want anyone to know any secrets
I think I’ll call someone right now
and
TELL them a

ah

secr

um
hey
I dont know—
sorry I didn’t realize you’d be in school.
It’s nighttime here.
Well now it’s morning I guess.
Okay, sorry.
No, it’s fine.
Yeah it’s actually kind of weird I don--
Oh.
Yeah okay I’m sorry.
Shouldn’t have called you in the middle of class.
Sorry if I got you in trouble.
Okay bye.
Talk to y—
Hello?
Anna?

Hello?