Thursday, 1 February 2018

maybe it's the crazy i like


(every now and again a train goes by
and it reminds me of home)

all my clothes are in bags on the floor
to be honest i cannot be bothered putting them away
i'm in, then out, then in and out again
i buy flowers for myself, think of lorde and leave again

i feel like a teenager, with teenage problems
i walk outside my old uni to catch the tram home
after getting anxious over two glasses of wine, classic...

back then i would've gone home with someone else
leant against their chest and slept blissfully like a child
but i did it alone, for the first time in so many years

found the perfect song to soak my head.
found a pack of men to hide behind.
remember that people love me, remind myself daily
remember to lock the doors

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