Crop Top with Bad Posture

I trace your writing with darker lines
I'm so involved and I feel so obliged
You're so inviting why do I see lights
Why do I let go when things ignite
If you blew out the candle would it burn out the fire
You and I were smoking we were so inspired
Like actually smoking we were high off pot
It was so nonstop until it stopped

I see all sorts of different things
But alas I am only ever able to feel one feeling
Eyes to the ceiling my fan is squeaky
And one day it will fall from the sky and kill me

I stick to the outsides glued to the sides
Things always end up bigger than they seem in my mind
When the black turned blue the rest turned to you
And I XYZ and I PDQ
And it rained profusely I assumed you walked home
It's a doggy dog world so lend me a bone
And it rained profusely I forgot you were rich
You probably just ended up calling a Lyft

I see all sorts of different things
But alas I am only ever able to feel one feeling
Eyes to the ceiling my fan is squeaky
And one day it will fall from the sky and kill me

I selfishly cry out for something to fill me
Or something to fill up something sturdy
Yet so broken that it dies before it can possibly hurt me