I thought I knew how to string a web
of realizations around my six of hearts,
but playing cards and not cashing in
makes no sense to pessimists that drink
not often enough

Emotions are hairy and tarantulas are scary
Strawberry wine has a buttery aftertaste, he says
So why am I feeling like I don’t know anything
after expressing my thoughts I can’t sort out?

What makes sense? Not these words
Knowing yourself is figuring out the infinite piece
puzzle you’ll never finish because they’re scattered
all about to everyone you love
But they’ll never complete you like you want them to

Tears come naturally like rain from the sky
Salty droplets, trickling down from your puffy eyes
There’s a frog in your throat, croaking louder than ever
Is this enough nonsense for you?