my eyes are tired
of peering out second
and third story windows
looking for redemption
in the glow of streetlights
but...
it's okay
i'm pretty much used to it
my heart is ruined
from every time i threw it against the wall
to prove to someone that there is no point
in loving me
because i do not love myself
but...
seriously
don't worry about it
i'd be bored if i didn't have
something to be bummed out about
my head is swimming
with another fishy idea
the salty ocean appetite of a whale
and about as much follow-through
as a puddle
but...
for real
it's fine
i just need to go on a bicycle ride
and listen to some Roy Orbison
my soul is blowing away
like a pile of ashes left in a park grill
the burnt remains of a sunny afternoon
scattered off into one last dying breeze
but...
nah
totally
it's coo'
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