Biography
iiii. frosh week
sleep diminishes to a privilege, carried out only on the slick cool leather couch closest to the office in which my boss dozes off inside.
which is worse; the flinching wooden naps i took in the quad of july, or my heart syncing to the bass of minute rap songs that dance through the feeble frank n steins wall.
ice breaker white (whatever that is) was overhyped; a fleet of heartbroken strangers searching for light in a city that is often too dark to see within.
they came as they went; unfaultering, unapologetic and chasing something even tequila cant suffice.
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Spring 
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