You're going through a mid-life crisis
"you're like my sports car, you know"
I brush my fingers through your hair
quickly
as I'm trying to choose between sanity and rapture
So here I stand
(knee)deep in shit
afraid of the streetlights
understanding why my mother always hoped I would get my fathers dark brown eyes
you make me tea
because you still haven't bought the coffee I asked you to
and you decide to take your sports car for a ride
and engine humming I close my eyes
and I hope I'm going to be happy someday
in the same way I am here my head on your chest
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