esc
does it ever feel like everyone around you is a crumpled shell of who they used to be,
a shoddy papier-mâché of their old forms animated by hydraulics and wire
i think it and wonder why they don't change, sitting in the same seats at the bar
and waiting for the renovation to crumble the old decor around them
and wondering why nothing's ever new
the hope that used to live in my eyes fled
stray