Day: Aug 9, 2021

Chant hexes at me from the hotel roof,

Wish on the star you always promised me.

We are drifting, alone, just counting spooks,

Building the next rotten dynasty.

Print your little white lies on T-shirts,

Maybe then someone will buy them.

We agreed to never leave the shore.

Now we are lost, and the lights are blinding.

Drop me like ice-cream on the boulevard,

Shake me awake with the breeze.

We always played it, but never smart,

Now we hide our smirks in the debris.

Abandon your morals at a stranger’s house,

Tell me all about it five years later.

We are getting lost inside the grand chaos

But at least they cannot call us traitors.

-JW