HE WAS PREACHING AT THE BUS STOP, HE WAS DRUNK,
DRUNK ON MOUTHWASH, TALK SHIT
HE A FOR A CIGARETTE I GAVE HIM A MINT
A LADY ASKED WILL THE SIX SOON
HE ASKED HER IF SHED LIKE TO TAKE A TRIP TO THE MOON
HIS SARCASM REEKED OF LONELINESS
AND I KNOW I HATED HIM THROUGH THE SNOW I COULD SEE A REFLECTION
FRAGILE IS THE HELL WE MAKE FOR OURSELVES WHEN WE ACKNOWLEDGE THAT THE SPOTLIGHT