something's off
a strand of hair
an uneven sleeve on the skin
I'm feeling sickly, going to pick it off the lot
and throw it in the basket, push it down the hill
for people to use
is it the commonality? We are the same
same in the separation, same in togetherness
enter first, exit first, the vibe's not the same, vine
I've spent the hours writing only to lose the draft
now I'm picky at every glance you give me
flitting but never fast enough
something's off
playlist is sad but not sad enough
hollow but not angry or tough
have the cart at the bottom in a ditch
the drink in my hand I'm a fish
if I was a mystic I would have done things differently
but we would look exactly the same even if we never met
