the smiths

I think maybe I am in love

With The Smiths.

I think maybe that’s a bit of a



You see, I think too much.

I find myself in hazes of philosophy

And never get any wiser, only sadder.

Life is strange, isn’t it? Just trust in me.


And I know you think I’m crazy

And I know you think I’m mad

I feel guilty for being happy

And guilty for being sad.


I’m so lucky that I shouldn’t be sad

But there’s so much sadness in the world

That I don’t really deserve happiness either

Where the hell is the middle ground?


You see, once I asked my science teacher

If there was a light that never goes out

But also, I’ve felt the cold air and hummed

Sing me to sleep, sing me to sleep


On repeat, on repeat, on repeat, on repeat

A reflex, a reflex that happens when my head

Touches cold air, and I think, anyhere but here

Anywhere but here, on this cold day,


With nothing but my brain.

This poem is about: 


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