I think I would like to glow red hot

With madness

Something to talk about, you know?

Instead of forging conversation

Upon general concerns

I don't have much to say, anyway

I don't watch sports,

Have no perilous habits,

And follow the forged path of teenage angst

(Nothing too detrimental)

I guess its just as well,

This contentedness with the contrite-

I can't be in trouble

For blending in

But something else tells me that I need to earn some racing stripes

Commit a crime

Sing too loud

Fall on my ass

Anything.

Because I'm tired of feeling like today is the last

Unsure of the loss, but aware of a missing presence

And festering in this hole of optimism

Is too much to bear

Tomorrow

Is no longer the last

I'm all shook up now,

Sweating palms and adultery

I'm all stars, baby!

Watch me soar...!

...back into my hole