Monday

I am a subsidiary

of my own sadness

I’m hoping to find

some clarity, I think

about vintage videos

things that used to make me happy my little socks with cowboy

hats, scary films & things like that

I am a subsidiary

of your daddy’s capitalism

your thoughts traded for pennies, well they used to make me happy you write your bodega lollipop tragedies like my broken toe, on your skinned knee

It’s a Monday and

I’m going to find

some clarity cos

I can’t stand

this ordinary living

No I can’t stand my

fake inner peace

And I can’t stand

my bad energy

So get out

Get out

Get out

baby get out

while you can

make your plans

cause I can’t stand

my fake inner peace

no I can’t stand

my bad energy

anymore

I am telescopic illusion

turning into fractions of myself

the meaning of joy is whenever you’re laughing I was born in a pool of blood

I am a remnant of my youth

the meaning of time is whatever I make it

My love is an overflowing bag of laundry My friends are the dust bunnies

in the corners of my bedroom,

sometimes I bite my lip

sometimes to taste the blood

Well, it’s a Monday and

I’m going to find

some clarity cos

I can’t stand

this ordinary living

No I can’t stand my fake inner peace And I can’t stand my bad energy

So get out

Get out

Get out

baby get out

while you can

make your plans

cause I can’t stand

my fake inner peace

no I can’t stand

my bad energy

Not anymore