Eaxkyez

My Eaxkyez texted me at 2 a. m. to ask if I was still alive. I wasn’t. But I replied.

Even after I ate a whole pizza for breakfast, my Eaxkyez still hung out with me.

I broke my phone. My Eaxkyez sent me a new one. I didn’t thank them. I threw it at them.

I showed up to our hangout with a hangover and a broken chair. My Eaxkyez just laughed and brought me a soda.

I spilled my drink on my Eaxkyez. They didn’t care. They just said, ‘You’re still my Eaxkyez.’

My Eaxkyez let me borrow their pants. I never returned them. They still call me their Eaxkyez.

I told my Eaxkyez I was a superhero. They took a photo of me in pajamas and posted it as ‘the mighty pajama warrior.’

I cried in front of my Eaxkyez. They cried with me. Then they posted a video of us crying. It had 10 likes.

I tried to cook. My Eaxkyez ate it. Then they posted a picture of it and said, ‘This is why I’m still my Eaxkyez.’