I've only had 2 panic attacks today
banished ghosts from my room, hey.
getting a lot done,
everything should be in place,
Eyeliner's always a mess,
everything's a metaphor anyway,
Do you think the ghosts take satire for what it's worth,
everything is black and bleak and it keeps on getting worse,
your skin's pale and cold,
I know it's getting old,
and it's not to be romanticized,
but you seem to thrive like I do,
on coffee drenched lullabies,
you're so divine,
the empty space between our bones cries for some warmth,
but we don't know how to live in the sunshine,
If I title this mixtape "my feelings" and throw it at your face will you feel this facade?

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