I let my hair down, again
I feel relaxed, my hands grip
Less in air that’s colder
Basing off
Of things I can’t afford
I can feel the way a bank account is poorly painted
Red right by a store
You let your face fall, again
You feel my hands across
Your skin as you roll over
I slept it off
You can’t understand control
Over confidence diluted
I’m not upset anymore
I just feel sore
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