graveyard girl

she spits on summer and smiles to the night

you know, your grammar isn't important if you suck at writing.

my lungs feel charred as i fall over, drunk, onto a pile of unwashed clothes. i smell like rum and stale cigarettes and body odor as I push the piss stained sheets to the side.
i don’t care, i tell myself over and over, the film of the night gritty against my teeth.
i don’t care.
my hair is unwashed and greasy as i fall into a dark pit and i’m spinning and spinning until i sleep.