Transcript

The Tortured Penn Department · Vinnie Penn Poemcast

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I guess this bed was the long game. But there's extenuating circumstance, and
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I'll accept some of the blame while I curse at the sycophants. You use
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pretty like an excuse, you use pain like a piece of gum. If
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I'm happy as a recluse, it doesn't mean it's what I wanted to become.
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There's a neon sign in the distance, but it's buried by the evening
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fog. Like the path of least resistance, the path that you love to
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jog, you go and bask in the afterglow of a lie you willed into
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place. In the end, there's only what we know and all the things
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that we can't erase.