it's me. it's always been me.
i've always been talking about myself because i'm the only character i'm capable of developing.
here i am, i have nightmares and i still hope you'll text me as often as i think about you. i drink my coffee with milk and cinnamon. i am always cold. i dress like an adult. i wear lipstick. my hair is weird. i can't see very well. i watch all the movies you like and i sneak your social media profiles in case you manage to like me.
i thought i could beat anxiety but it seems like it never wanted to leave me.
i don't think i could be someone else.
i don't think i could handle yet another universe.