this is a note i'm not that sure of yet. stuck at a party, how did you shoulder your way in? i'm shivering cold in the yellow-lit parking lot. i'm not sure what you know, but it feels like a lot.
it's always challenging when you're seeing right through these withered hands, watch my lips as they pour out invisible things, so when i die will you take my eyes, put two lightbulbs inside of me. i will bathe you in light, say you want me a live, that you would marry me.
i'm getting my coat, getting my bike unlocked. leaving you a note, says why i had to go home. and you leave it right where you found it, a new season is ending. i'm not sure what you're thinking and i'm not trying to know.