i want to be academic, confident, and romantic
but i just feel weird and overdramatic
daily reminders that i am pathetic
when you're surrounded by it, it's hard to forget it
i see your straight faces in the magazines
the ones i used to read when i was thirteen
now i can't sleep from all these flashbacks
caravans and guys in bands and polystyrene hands
i see it through my blinds
everything falling down
hitting pavement and breaking windows
it happened early morning
and i knew just what it was
i saw them come out of the sky
and the dread gets stronger each day
i hope you'll still love me
i hope we aren't left behind
and i hope i die before it
comes true
i can't live any longer knowing what
will go down
and i swear i'm telling the truth
this is just another
half assed poem
fuelled by writers block
and a terrified skeleton
