what a concept.

where do these irrational thoughts come from?

the ones that keep me up late,

staring at the walls,

staring at the door praying

i don’t see anything

i never do

is it Rooted in the people i hate?

is it rooted in the time that i wait?

the feelings i waste?

or maybe the taste

you left me with

the night it was late

do you remember that night?

the one you came in

you knew she was sleeping

you, i felt creeping

and ill never forget the feeling

your filthy hands

i knew your plans

it wasn’t just once and it wasn’t

just you

it was him, too

I thought it was only the aged

but minors aren’t immune to the grime