to my lovely widjajas <br /> <br />a shit bowl crashes through the ceiling. <br />i brush my teeth, <br />wash my face, <br />put on my polka-dot pajamas <br />thinking, 'it's just a shitty <br />dream.' <br />maybe not, says <br />the shit <br />that <br />just <br />fell <br />on <br />my face. <br />i write a poem <br />and go to bed, shit- <br />faced.<br /><br />Casper Fields<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/what-growing-up-means-to-me/
