university misery to the tune of a dying monarchy

[alternatively titled My Flatmate Is Rich And I Am Homicidal]

broke(nhearted) students live their own greek tragedies

soundtracked to stock markets crashing through paper thin walls

and smoke screened flatmates mourning the death of their safety nets

it remains my own burden that i can't afford the simple hedonism

of taxis across the city to parties where my neuroticism will fade into the background

along with the added weight of the fact that you will never bathe in your own cold sweat

past midnight hours, debt to vague faceless figures an imagery in refusal of being pushed into your subconsciousness

even the water at the bottom of the fridge can be glamorous with millions on speed dial

i refuse to see the deeper meaning in your art when your rainy day savings could change the course of my existence

more value lies in the backseat of a beat up car than anything your credit card could piece together

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