Someone at the end of this hallway
Is wearing plaid shorts
And they look like the ones you always wear
For a minute I think
Oh god, it's him.
And I'm not sure if I'm happy or terrified
Nervous or excited
But it was you in that moment and that's all that mattered.

I did an experiment recently
The findings were negative
You actually can't **** your feelings away

The happiest man I see all day
cleans up after us depressed college kids
While we chase jobs that aren't our dreams
And drown ourselves in liquor so we don't feel a thing
While we smoke ciggerates to exhale all the pain
And it really makes me wonder what were doing here if the happiest man I see all I day is only just a janitor.

My poem started trending
And I haven't felt that alive
In months
(Or is it years)

And the girl across the hallway
Is on her ninth chapter of a book she's writing
And I think about how
I'm two years older
And can hardly write three pages in one sitting

Maybe I'm not cut out for this

But what else is there