At the finish of the night,

Your mind watches over other people’s lives,

Rallying information to help soothe your own lies.

Lips scrunched up because you don’t know what being yourself feels like,

Pointing the finger is your only source of exercise,

Or

Jumping through every hoop to fill the hole inside.

I’ve watched you conjure up your own demise,

Tossing and shoving your truth to the side.

A pile should never grow this much in size.

“What’s in your wallet?” does not coincide.

Let the world open your door wide.

“What’s in your closet?”

I can’t wait for the surprise…