more treasures from the hellhole

[amul]

I should absolutely not be doing this to myself right now. But here's a bit of poetry I wrote last summer which I think is above-average:

Flowers splay wide their petals in full bloom
But some are more beautiful when closed tight
around their precious nectar
Their sweetness only for those whom nature grants
The particular, peculiar tools needed to pierce
Their guard

I tried to deal with being alone, tried to sit here and take it. I kept my fingers off the phone, though it was torture to do so and people called me instead. I'm a social creature, dammit! The universe won't let me be anything else.

Fuck this stupid wallowing in the past. Fuck all this regretting.

I'm going to go to a Con, and I'm going to have fun.

Now.