dear people in your early twenties,

generally speaking, could you maybe please, grow up? I forget how you are because I've surrounded myself with the abstractions of our generation. When I bother to take the time to really see you, I understand why people always mistake me for being older.

*****

dear english assignment,

you're due tomorrow and I haven't started you again. and it's not because you're too easy or I'm too dumb. let's face some home truths now: I have no real love for writing. oh sure, I like to write here, but that's because I'm a narcissist, baby.

I'm not a writer. I've tried to love you, and parts of me do, but it's just not working out.

*****

dear mum,

I hope how I mother you is no indication of what kind of a mother I'll make. it's bad and I know it. I want to say I can't help it because of you, stubborn unlearning you, but ... that's a cop-out. I'll try harder. I'll try harder.

*****

dear stomach,

I wish you would go away. I know how to make you go away. but that would also mean smaller boobs. you're lucky I like my boobs.

*****

dear heart,

oh, honey.

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