my mind looks quizically at the sun bursting through the trees
as I sit, corona melting down my throat
tangled in my teenage years
and I am almost positive I don't belong here
but my passion is telling me "its all good"
so why has the high drained
to leave thick, sticky residue behind
and why do my eyes decieve me almost EVERY SINGLE DAY
and why am I here
sitting
corona
trying not to vomit

04/27/2003

Posted on 04/27/2003
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