I've gotten pickier about my clothes lately. I don't have many places to wear pretty clothes so I've just taken to wearing them anyway. I'm wearing one of my favorite shirts today - to work in a warehouse, with glue  I don't care. I feel like looking pretty. T prolly thinks I'm into him too, because I've taken to dressing up a bit. Sorry dude, just wanna pretend you're my mommy so I can fall asleep in your lap. Maybe even throw up on your shoes 
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'...
At poor peace I sing
To you strangers (though song
Is a burning and crested act,
The fire of birds in
The world's turning wood,
For my sawn, splay sounds,)
...'
Dylan Thomas, Author's Prologue
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