octoplasm:

i can eat like 7 (for real) slices of pizza without gaining a pound ugh i love it

Out east beyond the city it’s quiet, and the front porch
still reminds me of your hand on my shoulder.
In the living room, Johnny Cash is singing on the radio
about the beer he had for breakfast.
The beer I had for breakfast was Tennessee whiskey.
The sun is squinting at my bad decisions.

I’m trying to dry out, but I’m worried my hands
will shake too hard to write.
I’m worried I will earthquake from my body.
I wonder what you’d think if you saw me now.

If you read this, I’m doing just fine.
I’m still a sheep in wolf’s clothing.
I’m still struggling with all the old questions.
I’m still trying to love everything put in front of me to love.
I’d still give anything to hear you call me Darlin’.
If you read this, and you’re thinking of me,
know I’m thinking of you too.