Give us oil

no way lgbt

I whisper “why” at least 30 times a day.

I talk in memes and sarcasm.

I eat my feelings with ketchup.

I vibe in pajamas and pure confusion.

I ghosted my goals for a better plot twist.

I sleep like it’s my full-time job.

I laugh to keep from plotting.

I’m emotionally attached to my bed and my blanket.

I trust my gut, but it only craves fries.

I don’t chase anyone. I chase peace and pizza.

I mood swing like it’s a sport.

I’m the background character who stole the scene.

I gave up caffeine. Now I just cry naturally.

My attention span ran away mid-sentence.

I reply in my head and forget to text.

I organize chaos, just not in folders.

I talk less to protect my weird.

I’m a full-time human, part-time illusion.