morning, sleep and sweat coat me like some ugly oil paint, too long to dry and letting my colors smear. i dreamt last night of love, a sitcom scene in a coffeeshop while he ordered bannana bread and i flirted clumsily. there are echoes of his laughter in my mind yet, though he wasn't anyone i really know. and now, the chaos of my room makes me edgy and angry, this house in its filth and mice and mold, i want to be gone from here and i'm terrified of leaving. the ivy in the corner makes me smile, its leaves falling down like tousled hair, leaning towards the light. i'm tired.