So they say only good wine leaves a stain on the shirts put aside for memorable days and your father never warned you about my habits like my penchant for bad magazines and video games they're the easiest problems to recognise i'm the books you're tired of reading; stories all the same and the mess between the covers never change all these moments caught in paragraphs and frames fade like perfumed lovers' clothes left out in the rain all the change that's been collecting in my pockets spent on gumballs, fake tattoos and gold plastic lockets they're the everyday treasures you demonise i'm the books you're tired of reading, stories all the same and the mess between the covers never change and the lights you don't want to turn off burn out all the same and you'll stumble into the same walls, again and again