x) Nails growing from having been chipped for too long
x) Youtube playlists blowing a crackle-pop low quality rendition of the Black Keys into the rounded curves of my ears
x) My brother’s sweater, because you never know what is golden when it’s hidden in the dark dank musk of your teenage boy closet
x) Gummy worms with loud colors and quiet flavors and squirming bodies and flaccid hearts – you can’t help but feel like a reptilian predator when you gulp one down
x) A conscience lathered firmly with a lukewarm potion of guilt and disappointment with an almost negligible splash of I REALLY DON’T CARE ANYMORE
x) Tired teenage girls v. the rest of the world.
Inkling 