I feel fine, but my box springs are lonely. They get separation anxiety and get clingy – its all I can do to tear the sheets off every morn.
I’ve got sass, but my passenger seat is insecure. Its making demands for new upholstery as if that will fill the hole. Some chrome would be nice too.
I’m fulfilled, but my skin aches. Starts asking to stay home from school. My skin stays in bed all day.
Don’t you worry about me. I’m fanfuckingtastic. I am thankful to be breathing, working, creating, so healthy. It’s my bed you should pay a visit to if you want to take care. Its my ride you should be seen in should you wish to reassure. Its my body that is crying, “Please take care of me.”
But myself, I’m all good with everything.