Dryer sheets

Nostalgia is facing me right now with the scents and the voices,
listening to MCR and singing to it bring me way back.
With the eraser and the cigarette butt in my hand, and the flem in my mouth
sitting just there on my tongue.
Flannels and pants and cold legs.
loose lips may sink ships
or my head into the hottest, scolding water so I can finally stop thinking.
I'm scared of myself, and I'm fearless of what comes out of my mouth, and so happy that I can think my own thoughts and I am me and not anybody else.
Rules are shit and so is everybody that follows them, because we're still mentally sane inside of all these organizations and establishments and music and teachers and corporate offices.
We can all think the thoughts that nobody will ever ever see unless you decide to verbalize them and share them with the whole world. In this icy climate and the late buses
I believe
we'll all make it with scary or normal thoughts.
BECAUSE WE ARE ALL OUR OWN PERSON.
So refreshing, yet still scary.