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.