An empty plate of readers, lately.
The sunset was beautiful that day,
My first minute in a new city
A rebellious glow on my tired, tired face.
Who am singing for?
I met someone who thinks no one thinks originally
As if that is an original thought
I saw someone happy and I squirmed in a sense of loss.
The sky is dripping down on my absent wishes tonight
My diary is full of plans on how to move:
Forward, inside, and finally away.
Is it a doodle, or a map?
There are so many folders in my computer
So many buttons on my shirt
My fingertips ringing with a future full of work.
My head is spinning as I sink inside my room
Just like I did half a decade ago.
What has changed?
Time tastes like food at home,
Delicious. Simple, rooted on my coarse palette
I will someday really, truly grow up I hope
And give back all the love I get.