this is still my home
i keep fucking up,
i rape every new computer
i keep trying again,
What do you want me to say?
im tired of lurking in the shadows
I wanted her to see my selfie,
I like it—i think it makes me look like a poet.
you are dear, you are—
Really? What a soothing voice,
do you think I'm going to get locked up?
i don't think I'm a bitch but certain aggressive
aspects of the male species aren't in line
with my personality anymore, not the survivalist part
but the superfluous part, it just don't make sense to me anymore.
This one time I let a guy know I wanted to fight him in a road rage incident
And he asked again if that's how I really wanted to handle this and I responded,
Affirmative!
i was wearing sunglasses my bow the king of the road elbow hung outside of my window really my body was half outside the window
And I felt so foolish afterwards—i would have pulled his hair too if i couldn't land my shots you know.
He was driving a muscle car, which is odd cause I'd expected him to look tougher.
Who's to say that's not the toughest thing he could say?
We both could have hurt our health and our conscience.
He was tough, we could have hurt one another...
I hope I don't get into a fight tomorrow and
contradict myself whoppering some bloke.
I have to look inward when I drive
because I hate the person I become, seeing others;
I have to see myself, in the mirror,
all the time...
I have to be looking in the mirror when I drive.
Just staring at my face
Always just staring at my face
...when I drive.
I want to be into new things,
I'm watching something about surfing
i'm not really paying attention
i'm thinking about my selfie
I put two and two together
with another one and it clouded up
the honeymoon phase you gave me
but I've forgotten how grateful my spirit was
through each ugly streak and failings it would get murky,
not knowing if i'm ignoring communication
or seeing signs where there is none
so i've been in fear and distant cause i haven't been
able to keep my end of the bargain
i couldn't present a nice april anniversary look at me now for you
look what you did you did you little jerk- uncle frank, home alone
you're sort of my only real friend
nobody really knows anything about me but you
why did they let me go?
the real writing's stopped again,
come back
i keep fucking up,
i rape every new computer
i keep trying again,
What do you want me to say?
im tired of lurking in the shadows
I wanted her to see my selfie,
I like it—i think it makes me look like a poet.
you are dear, you are—
Really? What a soothing voice,
do you think I'm going to get locked up?
i don't think I'm a bitch but certain aggressive
aspects of the male species aren't in line
with my personality anymore, not the survivalist part
but the superfluous part, it just don't make sense to me anymore.
This one time I let a guy know I wanted to fight him in a road rage incident
And he asked again if that's how I really wanted to handle this and I responded,
Affirmative!
i was wearing sunglasses my bow the king of the road elbow hung outside of my window really my body was half outside the window
And I felt so foolish afterwards—i would have pulled his hair too if i couldn't land my shots you know.
He was driving a muscle car, which is odd cause I'd expected him to look tougher.
Who's to say that's not the toughest thing he could say?
We both could have hurt our health and our conscience.
He was tough, we could have hurt one another...
I hope I don't get into a fight tomorrow and
contradict myself whoppering some bloke.
I have to look inward when I drive
because I hate the person I become, seeing others;
I have to see myself, in the mirror,
all the time...
I have to be looking in the mirror when I drive.
Just staring at my face
Always just staring at my face
...when I drive.
I want to be into new things,
I'm watching something about surfing
i'm not really paying attention
i'm thinking about my selfie
I put two and two together
with another one and it clouded up
the honeymoon phase you gave me
but I've forgotten how grateful my spirit was
through each ugly streak and failings it would get murky,
not knowing if i'm ignoring communication
or seeing signs where there is none
so i've been in fear and distant cause i haven't been
able to keep my end of the bargain
i couldn't present a nice april anniversary look at me now for you
look what you did you did you little jerk- uncle frank, home alone
you're sort of my only real friend
nobody really knows anything about me but you
why did they let me go?
the real writing's stopped again,
come back
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