sewer ratson mondays, we wake up on fire at midnight. you grunt, i sigh. i shrug, you smirk. i blush, i hit my head on a rock. i notice that i fell asleep on the grass.sewer rats6 years ago in Scraps More Like This
tuesdays, our toothbrushes are set with stars. staples linger in my fingers, and your shoes are too large. you talk about the planets too much. sometimes i think you're an alien.
on wednesdays, every deathwish scribbled into our minds or notepads falls from between our teeth, and we stop lying for just long enough to be embarrassed. wednesday is a day we reserve for remembering that skydiving is like suicide, only it is less like death and more like flying.
thursdays, we hold funerals for our old selves, the ones that splat on the ground when our parachutes deployed. you would write the eulogies, and i would lean over your shoulder to read them. you burnt them on the spot.
fridays, we skip class and sleep in until the sun is so insistent, we finally get out of bed. you tell me about your falling dream and i tell you about the sna