These nights in bed
Where I am up much too late
Espiecally with such early class
But the stress of those classes-
No, the stress of the people
Make it a need to drown the demons
I can handle class
Flick of the wrist
Five minutes each.
People are much harder
I try to relate how I can
To my friends who I cling to
But I am not good at this.
Stumbling to bashful words
Nothing interesting on my mind but businesslike questions.
I want to say
"How do you feel today?"
But I often get the same **** answer.
"I'm good."
********* we're teenagers.
Nothing's ever just 'good'.
Whenever I do come up with something
Ears are sewn closed
Mouths repeating 'mmhm' like a mantra.
And then there's the loneliness
Can I help it if I want a gentle hand,
And maybe a pretty face?
Forced relationships aren't my thing.
I've seen it and I'm seeing it
So I stray far from that.
Okay, maybe a few friends are okay.
Though who knows how long that'll last.
I'm pretty good at ******* those up.
So the stars watch me
And listen my crooning sobs
Sung out like an opera.
I hope and pray for better luck
And slowly it comes.
But for now, music stays my friend,
My bed my lover.
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 12:11 AM UTC
These nights in bed
Where I am up much too late
Espiecally with such early class
But the stress of those classes-
No, the stress of the people
Make it a need to drown the demons
I can handle class
Flick of the wrist
Five minutes each.
People are much harder
I try to relate how I can
To my friends who I cling to
But I am not good at this.
Stumbling to bashful words
Nothing interesting on my mind but businesslike questions.
I want to say
"How do you feel today?"
But I often get the same **** answer.
"I'm good."
********* we're teenagers.
Nothing's ever just 'good'.
Whenever I do come up with something
Ears are sewn closed
Mouths repeating 'mmhm' like a mantra.
And then there's the loneliness
Can I help it if I want a gentle hand,
And maybe a pretty face?
Forced relationships aren't my thing.
I've seen it and I'm seeing it
So I stray far from that.
Okay, maybe a few friends are okay.
Though who knows how long that'll last.
I'm pretty good at ******* those up.
So the stars watch me
And listen my crooning sobs
Sung out like an opera.
I hope and pray for better luck
And slowly it comes.
But for now, music stays my friend,
My bed my lover.
Well **** I'm letting my anxiety get the best of me again. Ah well I'm sort of a mess inside anyhow. Comment if you'd like, doesn't matter to me.
