i feel like that small bird 
that hits the glass pane
again and again
hoping just this next time
instead of hitting me back 
it would be just air
i feel like that lost dog 
hitting the street in the middle of the day
confused which is the footpath 
and where is the highway
standing at cross roads at a traffic signal
thinking so hard my brains might as well blow off
trying to figure out if green is go or red
i feel like a smoker, four days down whose been clean
and now you’re dreams blow up
all that could soothe me now is some trace of nicotine
i feel like that finger on the ringer
after three-bottle of beer
thinking about your ex- singing “wish you were here”

i feel like the moth on a light bulb

my wings are burning, but i yearn for the heat

strike the light until the defeat

i feel like the smoke

and that feeling of worthlessness and then it disappears
No there is nothing wrong with feeling like a teenager
or a stack of apple on a fruit box
yeah, they decorate those with knives
and all of those with lives
would appreciate how it feels to fuck one
i feel like that song…
yeah that exact same one, that never made it out of my mixtape


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