All the Good Is in the Past

I can’t sleep 

I can only think of how badly 

I want to be well rested 

the only thing I can hear

is all the piano I’ve ever played 

everything sounds bad

I didn’t know it then

but I do now

& music is all in the now

all the good is in the past

Taylor Swift’s music can get worse every year

I need to be Mozart reincarnated but better because I’m Asian

or I may as well die

my teacher thinks I’m pathetic 

it doesn’t matter that I’m lying 

white man could say anything & I’d bow at his feet

I try so hard to be perfect

I never say what I really want 

why hasn’t the ground swallowed me whole yet?

there’s construction all over this goddamn city

there must be a big enough hole somewhere

for me to hibernate in

a place warm enough for me to play dead

until spring