Lacquered acrylics fix beneath silk/Constricting around cranium/
Sustaining the days’ style, for the morning/I lay my head upon my pillow
Resting my eyes/And putting to sleep all of my worries that lay beneath my hair.
I have no clue why she would be dressed up this nicely at a train station but that is non of my business/ The point is that I wanted to complement her/ But being that most of my friends are women/I’ve heard enough creeper horror stories to know that if I didn’t approach her correctly/
I could go down in her own history book as another creepy ass guy on the train trying to holler/So I didn’t/I still don’t