1Watch life spiral down
Years traced in the sand
Intertwined inside your fate
It’s always snowing
In the darkest part of his brain
Where the thoughts are
Written in magic marker
On a cobwebbed wall
3:00 AM is my genius
It’s the only time I can let
The masochist run free
Because Mommy is poetry
Written in a book in a coffee shop
Read by people who pretend to want
To be somewhere else
But yearn to be with the crowd
To show their individualism
So read this.
Read my thoughts through this.
As long as you don’t hate me
For them
I’ll be someone else.