Don’t Seem Right.

Remind me to take a left the next time I enter my mind,

I have this crippling weight on my chest,

Feels like my conscience is subdued by heartaches,

For me and my destiny, are forever stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Bring me these objects, let’s begin the process,

A cup, a cone and a glass of soda dipped with ash,

A buck, a bong and some fire tracks,

Failed projects turned into crumbled up paper,

Missed deadlines, debts and Grim the reaper,

My GPA screams at me “6.5!”

Scared to heal, I press snooze till it’s 9.

Days too hazy and nights so bleak,

Like young lungs with a silver streak,

Silence now all, for my heart shall speak,

Its tales of sorrow, from the moments it fell weak,

Not the star of the show and neither the geek,

I was the King of Hard Times and the Jack of jack fucking nothing.

I was the moon on a bright sunny day,

That cripples a flower but doesn’t make it fray,

I had potential but soon that too went away,

Fell into deep rock bottom, it wasn’t by mistake.

Now I drink my horrors and smoke my pain,

The only time I cry is when I’m standing in the rain,

Waiting for the next station, riding on the L train,

For what I do, I do in vain.

But don’t you dare put flowers on my coffin as of yet,

I still have so much that I haven’t said,

Still have so much that I haven’t felt,

Or felt too soon, scared now of the hand that dealt.

Make me a coffee and some tea,

Call in the curtain on my history, I’m now a new man, born from the sea,

Of Chaos and consciousness, both steep and deep,

But this time give me a chance to do things right,

Give me shelter from these dynamites,

And ticking time bombs, created by anxiety and late nights.

Teach me to swim beneath my own insecurities,

Let me harvest my crops this time with maturity,

Let me burn my fingers to save my hand,

For if you don’t take on the sea, you won’t see new lands.

Make me a playlist and start with the blues,

Bring me a piece of paper and some glue,

Let me label all the time that flew,

While we were fighting, both me and you.

We will sit accross a tennis court,

While we look into each others through the netting,

How high we get always depends on the setting,

Pulling me closer or are you letting,

Go of my toxicity while looking me in the eye,

Damn the chicas of San Mondego tell no lies.

There is a twinkle in my eye and a light that passes by,

Makes me realise, letting go is the perfect way to fight,

What is wrong doesn’t have to be set right,

Remind me once again to take a left the next time I enter my mind.

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