haunted house (no ghosts, just me)

I always want more friends until I remember what it's like to make them. What it's like before you figure out the cues in their voice or what words they can never spell right. Like when you move to a new house and don't know which floorboards squeak. 

Eventually, I'll know you have to lift the bedroom door up to get it to click. Until then, I'll keep tripping over the corners of the carpet and awkwardly fumbling with locks.

my days are only 12 hours long

slow blink, frankie