I flood myself with sentimentality
listen to sad, sad tunes out of the jukebox buzz,
wish, hope, pray I will be in love one fine afternoon, wearing my
best clothes

i recite the tired lyrics
the folk verses yearning for dissection
pretentious, but I myself am pretentious
trying to be all deep and innovative
raised to think I’m something special
when I’m just
dusty atoms that are swept away in no time at all

and with that thought
my knees give in to the weight on my shoulders
and I collapse in tears on the steamy shower floor
longing for someone to hear me
in vain