Yo its’ okay if you’re a white girl who likes Uggs and spray tans and pop music and instagramming your Starbucks. Don’t let tumblr make you think for one minute that liking things like that makes you inferior.
Same goes for if you’re a hipster trans mexican/japanese Pizza Underground enthusiast with a hello kitty neck tattoo.
If you’re not hurting anyone, you be you. There’s nothing wrong with that.
You live in the back of my throat. Folded up there. A memento.
Your scent. Your memory. Muted and momentary. Heavy. The smell of sleep. Reminiscent. Bittersweet.
Once I laid my head on you. Inhaled to match your rhythm. As if somehow that’d bind us close together indelibly.
You live in my cavities. Empty spaces of my body. Your voice. Your memory. Planted deep. A pit inside me.