blogging about my feelings in my own special way

 
i saw the license plate IFARTD a few days ago, 
it was one of the more moving pieces of art id seen in a while.
living with blisters and sore thighs is when im at my best,
no step is made indeliberately
(thoreau would be happy! he loves when i hurt) 
my dad couldn't dance all weekend because his back hurt 
(not that he would’ve, but he could have stood with us.)
i miss having someone in my life who i hate
because now my anger falls where it is supposed to, where it hasn’t since my hair was halfway down my back.
i miss my matcha and my clairo
and my consentually non consensual self criticisms,
i miss when i covered all of my mirrors with sheets.
theres no clouds in the sky to hide behind,
and theres no grass to snake through.
good writing only relies on one metaphor.
i’m having a fine day. its just a lingering feeling.