And sometimes I look down
At the floor while you talk.
They scare me sometimes
The words that come out of you
Slow and slick,
Filled with a generic substance,
They’re not even coherent.
Forming erratic sentences,
Like the paths that you follow.
Like the friendships you break.
The girls you meet, the family you love.
And the movies that you watch.
I worry about you. Honestly.
Like the words I type on this keyboard.