Maybe I saw this coming
and didn't recognize it's shape
as the dying day shifted everything
Possibly I heard the sound- droning slowly nearer.
Mistaking it for a speeding train.
Sell my instincts, and my car
for half-assed friends with tattooed scars.
They suck my inspiration bare,
feed me shit, hold back my hair. Oh well.
I'm getting tired of running alongside your bike.
You carry us like figurines with weaknesses
you shape like paper mache.
Night time tumors you spit up,
All night long you're growing lumps.
I want to surgically remove every cancerous
part of you.
Before we started talking shit,
it was poetry and promises.
Such perfect fantasies ahead, yeah it was
a future to remember.
So don't be surprised if we can't keep down
all those nursery rhymes-
They were always lies.
Oh so when we wake up, lift your head up and say everything you were dreaming of. Don't be afraid of what anyone might think. Trust me, no one's ever listening.
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