The morning after flight
we come crashing, spinning
in the dark turns to spinning
in your room, with the lights
off, fading into the next morning,
rolling out of unfolded sheets,

slipping into daylight way too early,
the beat of the night takes its victims,
and the bus stop seems safe until you
see someone, you don't know, and you
don't know where you are, but,
we'll have fun tonight, that's what

they say, till the morning after,
the morning after seeing stars
in the shape of a mirror, twisting
under that somber light, until crashing,
and fading into the next morning,
but staying in, is something you could
do, your whole life, why don't you
come out tonight, seek flight,
and all that poison, makes us blind,
filling the holes in our stomachs, spat
out by our screaming bodies, shaking
in the cold because you wanted to look
good tonight, and all that skin, is a symbol
of a trap, the one you've tried to evade with
liquor,