Oversharing

here again, having feelings. The only cliche in the world, predictably hypocritical. Things I want, am told I want & don’t cos who likes being told? all these promises in my cauldron. Untangle, wait & worry about the timings. So I make pretend a lot, listen to music and it’s all about me, top deck of the bus, swallow the city raw, swimming in lemon, suck the pearls till the 149 reaches dalston. You see I’m wading through this? Some kind of tide against me, time dragging. Halloween & I eat the sweets bought for children. Selfish. It's alright cos I’ve not had my saturn return & I don’t know what responsibility looks like yet. Sour apple refreshers win best taste & I’m reading Deborah & she says the categories consider us not the major. Well, don’t find my past inspiring, I'm learning to be angry. Sour little packets litter around me, match my act and my elf bar, green apple & peach, its a theme babe. Watching trash tv like critical studies, second helpings, tbh isn’t that all we want?  These promises are poison in the water anyway, I'll turn eggs into fortune cookies. It’s summer now, don't just look at me like that. I mean, can’t you see me?