If you were to peer into my eyes and see the way I think,
it probably wouldn't be too difficult to discern
That I've always prided myself in my ability to play well with others.
You'd probably guess that in preschool I would hand over my toy to keep the other kid from screaming,
and maybe walk over to another part of the room where I could find something better.
Things haven't changed much, and
I guess old habits die hard because I'm having trouble remembering old regrets,
Being drowned inside out by eyes like silhouettes.
Pulling me past the moment we occupy
and underneath the darkened sky,
You can make me think otherwise when we're standing face to face but
I guess I don't know whether to trust the girl in the mirror or my reflection in your pupils anymore,
I'm still learning about walking away and things, I'm young, you see.
Maybe it's the way you make me think I understand, or maybe it's the ocean at night,
I'm going to ramble until this sounds right.
I'm not really sure what this feeling is that I would do anything to preserve,
And it's beyond me why all my 11:11 wishes are for things to stay the same, things are awful,
I'm a little bit sick of tiptoeing around these shards of glass, let's just shatter the whole fucking house while we're at it.
Write a poem about me and stick it under your bed
With everything else you'd rather forget,
I'll stop trying to rhyme my feelings,
I guess,
Just write me a story and rip it to shreds.
the last couple of lines <3
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