Twatter- Poem

Even if I don’t have success
my twitter bio will.
My marble instagram and brallette,
channel no 5 and Mac Russian Red,
internship, daddy’s money
depression and anxiety
cuddling me in a microfiber blanket.

I’m not relavent, not POC or gay,
just another slav slave
(if you trust Nazi etymology)
my typos make it look as if I can’t spell.

I grew up with a single father,
but that’s doesn’t count for victim points,
because I’m white and straight,
maybe as a woman I could get a job
in engineerig, but I happened to fail physics
my teacher was a woman.

I’ll delete the app of my phone,
sunlight is easier on my eyes,
my melatonin doesn’t get fucked up
I can go to sleep at 11,
it’s better for my OCD
not to see half naked bodies
and people boasting
about how good masturbation is.

I wanted a conversation


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