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I'm not insane, just punch-drunk
I smell like an old turkey, left out for no one to eat,
look like a dumpster, I am 15 and probably damaged,
But I am not obsessed, or too dramatic,
just a little punch-drunk,
and wondering what I did wrong,
thinking is getting me ecstatic,
only if you, bunk upon bunk,
but outcome is always, "What if I did not belong?"
I get mad at myself for going to sleep,
with you on my mind,
we never had one last kiss, or even dined.
So now I go from old turkey,
to dirty, lonely skunk,
and I figure I am not in love,
I am just a little punch-drunk.
