Garbage Post: Boisterous & Quiet After

I’m scared of the end

Just like you, just like you, friend

Have I been driving blind

Confident until I run out of time

It’s dark

And sense of direction fades into what if, curves

Biting my nails, shaking hands, nerves

I’m scared

Because hard headed heads learn the hard way

Consistency in me, it won’t stay

Please hold my hands and guide me on.