Today I fasted, and it was easy.
Today I drank a glass of water, and it came up right away.
Today I called my mother, and she told me she was sorry.
Today I listened to "She's Leaving Home," and I started to cry.
My room is filthy, I have hours of homework due at 8:30 AM, and the rain is torrential.
I like a girl across the hall, she is a dancer and she smiles like a child (like I never could) and she lets me hustle her cigarettes. "Chill for five minutes with me," she asks, but I am too busy procrastinating by grabbing at my flesh with grubby fingers and tracing the paths of the stretch marks on my hips.
I can't make myself do anything.
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