ten thirty-two, at night

She’s too much, she’s not calm to be around you.

He’s too loud, he’s not refined enough to be near you.

They’re too scary, they don’t master social skills like you do.

They’re not as graceful,

They don’t fit.

You hear they love a violent lifestyle with rap music and smoke spliffs.

 

 

Alas, you watch them like a hawk.

They taunt you with your attention,

voyeurism is unrequited.

Your eyes bleed envy

of style, you can never have.

You devour them whole as you

make plans to steal their thunder

because their magic makes you wonder.

You restrict their joy,

to mimic their carefree attitude.

They’re not good enough to be around you, but they’re good enough for you to wear them.

 

 

What will you do when you’re exposed?

 

 

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