the sky was pink, out at the sea
The day we talked, the sun was about to set. It turned the sky pink, out at the sea.
A New Year
2019. It feels like it is a repeat of 2018 but instead of feeling like it launched itself away from the linear timeline, it feels like it is dragging on and occupying the space that 2018 didn’t spend any time occupying.
who am I anymore?
Has anyone ever felt like their name is not their own name? I’ve been feeling this disassociation for a while now. I’m not even sure if I can confidently tell you my name anymore because it almost feels like I don’t have a name. I just am.
REDSKIEZ 