xvii

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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna
oceanwriting
oceanwriting

I was seventeen once;
It tasted like cigarettes.


Seventeen:
It tasted like a lot of different pairs of lips.
It was chlorine-bleached crunchy hair
And hollow-eyed fucking in the woods, like ghosts.
I was seven-fucking-teen.
And I was fucking invincible.
I had too much room to grow, and no idea what to do with it all.
Nothing ever went wrong when I was seventeen;
But I was seventeen,
And of course we were hurtling towards the sun.


I was seventeen once,
And then I burned down.