I'm sorry you're so clinically sad
and I'm sorry I don't know what you're thinking
I'm sorry I keep apologizing for things that aren't my fault
but I wish I could help you (in some way, any way)
I wish you would let me

Keep me in your back pocket
just in case you figure yourself out enough
to let someone new in

(maybe I'll take my own advice)

focus on yourself
focus on yourself
focus on yourself
because no one else will focus on you as long as you hoped

I ******* ****
at making conversation
and being anything but boring
(you know it, I know it, stop pretending
stop pretending I'm interesting)

I hated the way all of our city nights disappeared into one day-
into one 24-hour span that was decades longer in my dreams.
I know the inevitable place we will end up is in dirt, anyway
so why do I keep trying to dance along concrete?
All I am is a ******* strings,
being pulled in multiple directions
from every conflicting piece of advice I am given.
Maybe I will stop listening
because you, too, will die in the end
and leave behind the same **** thing-
a gravestone
(size depends on how much your loved ones are willing to spend)
or ashes
(carefully put into urns or thrown around and blown by the wind)
and the last one to hold us
is a casket or a ******* jar

so what does your advice really matter

It's alright if you are playing games with me
at the very least I'll appreciate that I was the piece you chose to move around

someday when we grow taller
these mountains we climb will seem smaller
and every branch we cling to for safety won't break

how do we ever find solid ground when all of our hands and feet are so shaky