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Tell me how you’re doing
tide’s are the least of my problems.
the constant ebb and flow of,
pools of comfort and waves trying to drown me
take me to sea.
take me to the shore i last said goodbye on.
left me gasping through polluted water
i’ll die suffocating in my own vomit.
yeah the tide is the least of my problems.
beside rocks soaked rotten with what was at one time,
and another begging to touch the sea again.
compelled like the addict moon.
is her dark side never seen because she cant bear to look away from her passion?
yeah the tide is the least of my fucking problems.
patterns on their sweaters take control,
take me home again,
to the people i last said goodbye to ,
to the routine’s i last said goodbye to.
teach me how to tame the bonfire i’ve felt in my gut since i was 7.
treat me like someone ready to explode,
i’m not a ticking bomb i’m a ticking clock.
yeah the tide is the least of my problems now,
my sunglasses aren’t broken they’re shattered.
the cracks of light because all the great artists get filtered.
can’t stop the sunlight any more than she can.
can’t handle the constant vibration of my dying cellphone,
all the battery being taken.
there are rocks nearby,
i’m not one of them.
-sopspo
i don’t remember who “you” is in this sentence, but i feel i’ve properly captured my emotions from 12th grade when they commented to me about something from my profile in 8th.
i’m sorry that you can only think of me as someone who i used to be. now im pretty cool i guess. sucks for you.


