i see people
they’re wearing those sneakers
i’m wearing those sneakers too
but i first saw them laced
upon my music saviors feet
in 1980 something
and not on the pretty girl's

her poetry is sad
i throw my head in the voice’s direction
i sigh
when the girl who mourns for consolation
claims ownership
they think she’s specials
beautiful broken
deep as the sea
i wonder if i seem just like her
i wish there was something special

i touched your back
as you cried
because i wished for your repair
you didn't feel it between all the other's
as they touched your back
filled with curiousness
searching for a cause of your woe

you declaimed your hate of the world
to me
i sat beside you
grasping your words
tossing them between the fingers of my thoughts
they sat beside you
anticipating their next turn to speak
and what that would lump consists of
feeling only a fraction of apprehension for your words
you thank them for listening
and not me

i wish the world turned on genuine intent
now it feels wrong and mixed up
to exist as i do
despite assumable unawareness
i understand them
i have no right to say this anyways

i’m scared because
i’m probably just like them
and maybe they’re just like me

everyone is different
are we though?
maybe we all have the same soul
just different comprehensions and articulation

i’m scared because
i’ll never know
i cant explain half the things i feel
nobody can explain half the things they feel

maybe i’m wrong about it all
we're all so small
it doesn't matter that we wear the same shoes