Grayscale

It's times like these i wish i had
some common sense left inside of my head.
I should have known this would never work out.

I just want to be a part of something beautiful.

Vibrations, tounge and cheek,
what words are worth to even speak anymore?
In bed by eleven again I hope to disappear in the mattress.
I hope when I fall asleep the pillow eats my teeth.
Warm color schemes, mostly red
like a flower without it's nectar.

It's a planet you know,
it's where we plant and watch ourselves grow.
Up. Up. Out.

Whats the point of beauty if we all look the same?