Shadows don’t usually scare me
But the ones following me today are more than just a simple haze
They stick to me, as marshmallow creme

I’m knee deep in mud, and they watch silently
The mud’s not black, brown, or green –
It’s gray, and it reflects what I see
I want something simple, something sweet
I just want a mango, I curl up like a mink

Barely scraping up my milk money, I trudge on with scraped knees
I smell like mothballs, rain, worn out things
This is what scares me
Becoming a silent onlooker of things
This is what scares me
Becoming a content shadow, like the ones I’ve come to see