Havoc

It’s a cinch to stay in bed

Enclosed by four blank walls

With books and cigarette butts

Piled high like your thoughts

That devour your brain whole

About the wreaking havoc

Just outside your bedroom door

It’s a cinch to keep the blinds down

Camouflage yourself in darkness

Until you can no longer see yourself

But you can still feel the density

Of your heart falling in love

With the soles of your shoes

That stomp every time you stand

But the wreaking havoc

Will always slither under your door

And the light will always creep

Through the holes in your blinds

And the sweet autumn breeze

Will always kiss your face in the

Most melancholic afternoons

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