I don’t like music
That makes people drop to a base
Of words people spit out
Like some kinda bad taste
Wasted on me is the idea
Of alcohol will bring me joy
But I still go out
And that’s how I met this boy
Who’s eyes are like oceanic pools of water gathering over sandstone
Green with brown flecks
Like fish swimming in a shoal
Trying to escape
Like how my imagination gets the best of me
When he talks his voice makes me weak
And honestly for once I don’t speak
I just listen to the Manx flow
Slowly letting go
To the ideas I hold tightly
Grabbing my attention
While anxiety still yells fight me
I dunno where this is going
I just know all I see
And right now
I don’t know
This boy
Could be what I need

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