put myself in the corner of a house with no sunlight (the i learned to walk in)
how are you getting home tonight?
i tell myself hat theres more to life than wishing you could fall forever
I dont wanna be rude but its cold and you’re wearing my only sweater
I’m afraid of living
i’m afraid to die by your side
and you know this wasn’t an accident its more of less a sign of the times
i’m afraid of being myself
i’m afraid to live with my hands gripped around the neck of another
with a sister and a brother
and a tendency to break walls down
the only time i feel okay is when I am alone
and even with my eyes glued to the sun I’m so cold
i tell myself hat theres more to life than wishing i could catch a break
i don’t know what to do with my hands or my feet or this headache
///mickey was a friend of ours
waiting for the world to end
in a parking lot downtown
where he made friends with astronauts and people wearing polka dots
and folks who wandered far from their nightgowns
a hometown hero he would be
if he could only make them see that he is worth his weight in copper, at the very least
he is an artist and a thief
and he’s actually the kind of person that i aspire to be///
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