I sink in I rest my knobby elbows on the hard glass my dark, fuzzy, pinpricked reflection stares up at me I place my cold palms on my hot eyes. These eyes, they've seen too much yet, nearly not enough My chapped lips, stingingly soothed by minty beeswax My clothes plaid polo flannel, red, green, tan, black, white, jumbles, like me My cold feet stick out, they rest painfully on a wood bar long stripped of stain An old soul trapped with the mind of a child in a teenager's body. This be will interesting.