the recent song ive been working on

[the_fold_out]

words and lives (as broken champaigne glasses)

we're both alone here
so let's not shit ourselves or each other
our lives as broken champaigne glasses

rich with poor exterior
even now,
with broken back pack straps
and notes we handed back
its humorous,
how we looked in the mirror and tried to imagine we were fooling anybody
but our own reflection

when this is all a trivial memory
i'll laugh and wonder at my stupidity
but as of right now,
whether or not they keep,
these words have MEANING,
and clarity,
and certainty,
words as broken champaigne glasses

pertinent as afterthoughts
masks make men feel like gods
while words tug on their crowns