Goodnight

Goodnight, I’m so tired
Of tryna make every word witty
Not every emotion’s an art piece my feelings todo lists all outlined in sharpie
My emotions are useless unless I use them, that’s a destructive way to be
Because if my feelings don’t fit into poetry stanzas I pluck ‘em like weeds
Please, Jesus, can you have one word you don’t try to fit into your work
Hudson Klass is just some kid who’s tryna sleep while Corwin pens a verse
I’m just jealous, We’d all be musicians if God let us, Give me some credit, and if you know where we can get our fifteen minutes of fame just tell us

Young people, you don’t have to perform so much
Not every heartbreak is a poem-in-waiting
Yeah, your music, I’ve heard great things
That’s the first step

But, first, does all of those work make me better, or worse?
What came first, the heartbreak or the love song?
I gonna keep singing until it feels wrong, and it feels wrong

So goodnight, it’s my bedtime, I’ll see y’all in the morning

SPOKEN:
So, I was sitting on the beach, around sunset…
And this little kid walks up.He actually looked a lot like me when I was little.
Brown hair, brown eyes, a little Spiderman t-shirt. He walked up on the sand.
He’s just so happy, he’s so carefree, like he couldn’t… he’s not troubling himself with anything but the tide coming in.
And then he unzips his pants, and pees in the ocean right next to me.