I look at the clock as it metaphorically ticks
The minutes and seconds that turn into hours
Of being awake and not being able to escape
Into a world of dreams filled with happiness
And hopes of a man or test grade or smile
Because a better tomorrow is cliché and
Broadway and it can’t possibly capture
The true desperation for some type of
Improvement in the lengths of the white
Tips of my fingernails or the miniscule
And unbearable numbers that line my
Bank account number or the instances
Where the light in the top left corner of
My Galaxy blinks feverishly a yellow
That signifies any type of contact from
These distant co-workers or former peers
But I don’t really expect much because
I’m sure everyone knows about my
Love triangle escapade and skanky
Tendencies so I just blast the 808s &
Heartbreak with the bass beating into
My skin like it’s a part of my inner
Organ allowing me to revel in my
Loneliness and try to embrace mine
And Kanye’s similarities
February 22, 2014 3:49:41 PM