i feel like this isn't me.

it's hard to say,
like there's something
crawling around
something that's bigger.

it's fall
time to put on the mask
time to pretend i have some sort
of talent that if i had i wouldn't be here.

sometimes i'm weak.
sometimes i break.
sometimes i get sick of smiling.
sometimes
sometimes.

tell me when to stop. x3.

i did something that i am not ashamed of.
even though you'd like me to be.
but tonight isn't about that.

i'll emulate and imitate
and never originate.
and you can fuck off, because i'm happier that way.

these are never songs, just fragments of poetry
i apparently missed writing when i was fifteen.
like everyone else with the internet or a spiral notebook
i'm aware that i'm just another cliche (and no, i don't do it best.)



sometimes all it takes is one thing to make you smile.

at least i don't have that hair.