Abuse

My pillow.

I’m not entirely nocturnal. Some nights I sleep at 10, other nights I wait till dawn. I hate pillows, mine especially. She’s annoyingly fluffy and would never succumb to the shape I want her to be. Some nights I want her to be flat, other nights a cone, most nights I want to lean on her while I work or lie over her when I read. Unfortunately she has sworn to be what she is, a fluffy hard annoying piece of wool, or whatever she’s pregnant with.

I’m not the type to abuse the things I love, or don’t love, but I can’t help her being useless. When need be, I sit on her, God help her when the fart comes knocking. Other times I cry on her. Most times when watching a movie I slot both of her ends in my armpit and I use her for unromantic pillow fights fights now and then. Like I said, I’m not one to abuse the things I love, or don’t love, but she has to be useful.

LARDO.