there was laughter one fall ago, now its distilled. the 
remenats are tinted brown sinking to the cup tipped upfor 
a toast. your window is a television lit up with a line 
of pretty people waiting for their fifteen minutes. the 
actors are fake friends but at least i know they dont 
secretly hate me. can you hear me? can you hear me 
clipping on your radio? theres a song playing on my 
stereo. i sing along wishing i could become a vessel so 
my soul can soar, can travel back in time. i sing along 
to my stereo. it always sounds better in my head. i 
wanted to write a fuck you song, now i know that the you 
could be me. theres a vague resemblance in the looking 
glass to a person that i once knew. maybe hed tell me, 
'its a sad stale coffee cup slogan, youre not going to 
make it.'