wanting out and thinking of you
10:52 p.m.

you seemed like a boy

in a glass box

seperate

sterile

isolated from the things that make the world

the world

and it looked like you needed somebody

anybody

maybe even me

to help you

for a minute

the boy in the glass box

couldn't understand life and what was going on

so me

in all of my egocentrism

I dained to reach out and put my hand to

your glass

to try and help

thinking i could help

like i could possibly help

and the moment my fingers encountered

the smooth surface of your world

it hit me

it wasn't you that was in the box

but me

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