I'll leave just about anything behind
brown curls and fiddles
a blanket in the grass
my composure
Here comes a beer and a prayer, one in each hand
and like a chain smoker, i just burn it to the filter
and i'm right on to the next.
But i'm far too young to be on my way down,
the queen of ambivalence with a wicker crown.
To kiss, and to tell
to drink cups of coffee in the dark
as he sleeps til two.
I once heard "Its good to be in the arms that know you best"
and thats not where i am, or will be anytime soon
and its hard to give anxiety a rest.
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