Does it hurt? When you prick your finger No I do this just for fun Our fingers lose feeling

I can feel it coming Decisions I can’t make Brain starts to freeze Fingers won’t work Sick of this disease

Why can’t I choose to be somewhere in the middle? Surrounded by extremes Measure everything With a grain of salt

Would I rather be A younger me? More productive Stronger Would i have to give up

My parents always say We’re proud of you I am too I got out of bed I used to get so much done

You might know her As blonde eyes Or as the sister who bakes cookies But you see I don’t write this

The pressure inside Is building It comes out through my eyes I stop up the tears It comes out through my nose

The ugliest shade Of green We envy The car The job

If I could paint a man Eyes so dark they shine Brooding and stormy Til the smile breaks through If I could paint a man

You must commit To an outfit Where are you going? In sporty yoga pants Athletic top