I Want To Be Published So

people can hold me
without me having to question whether they actually wish to be touching me or not

sometimes one neighbor plays songs loudly that I think are nice

and I wonder if they are cool people, and if I would mind speaking with them

I picture this person in the apartment adjacent but above me

I realize now I am on the top floor

the erasure process of the nail polish that reminds me of you makes me think of you and therefore counteracts itself immediately 

upon depleting the finite resource I held dear til the end, "maturity" I am forced to whine and overshare admittance regarding "things never getting better " to anyone who can possibly hear me

I created a one-year plan, it's much like a ten-year plan only it is for one year and this year 

work every weekday from 8-4

get home from work at 4, eat, clean, etc from 4-5

at 5 I can get into bed and spend one hour either doing what I need to on the internet, reading, or both, until 6pm

At 6, promptly, I take a medley of sleep remedies, necessary to get through the following day 

from 6 on I can finish what I started, then noodle around until I am asleep

saturdays are for biking, and any other self-care 

sunday is for chores, grocery shopping, showering, laundry, preparing for the week any way that I can

in one year's time I will understand the loss of a companionship, and brutal unrelenting isolation so well

I will write a book about it 

people will hold me and say to me

you did not try to keep any of the things or people you spoke so incessantly about losing