I am not well-rounded, I
am angular with sharp edges
and flat surfaces
I stay up really late most nights,
and I love to sleep in
and drink coffee real slow
in the afternoons
I don’t go outside as often as I’d like,
’cause my fantasy worlds
distract me from the difficulty
of reality
I swear I’m trying to embrace
the beauty of each process,
but I tend to turn everything
into some kind of difficult
Please don’t
shove me in a round hole
When did I become
a dark cipher of myself?
I see the light reflected from my halo,
and it casts eerie shadows
that stretch like horns
In these dark days,
give me wings
and nest after flight with me
