There are people, whether you'd like to believe
With their heads in the clouds
There are people, with more than just tricks up their sleeves.

There are people
with minds that wander
There are people
who hide under
Tables, and ceilings, and shelves.
Or smiles.

When I was younger
I would squeeze myself into tightness
Some nights I still feel like that
When hell breaks loose
And my head reminds me
Of a boxing ring
Or a shooting range
Or a couple's therapy.

I aim my gun, and pull the trigger.
Maybe one day,
One day,
I'll stop pretending I don't hope for too much.