Hey I wrote a 40 second song, what am I, every lyrically driven Post Hardcore Band?

LYRICS:
This is for the dude who's
way better than me
Are you still writing dear sadie
Into notebooks on the train

Do you persist through a boy
With his whole life hes throwing away
And do you kiss lips you know youll kill
in 2 or 3 years anyway

What became of that coven
Even after semester ends
When parched lips and unclenched fists
Remain passive for your muses

Your music is abusive

This is For The Dude Who's Way Better Than Me

Something a little different. Well, not as far as soundcloud knows at least. I've uploaded one other song. For all you know, I could be just back and forth changing what I do each new piece. But I write songs, this time I wrote poetry, and WHAT A SURPRISE, it's sad.

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Lyrics?:
The mist in port Jefferson stared back
Just like those brown eyes
You slept I stayed up some of those nights
You flourished as I faded with the dawn
With just as much duality between us
I kept to the setting: exterior road, time: night
The mist changed colors on the highway here, reflecting it's environment
Or maybe those were just hallucinations from the lack of sleep
I swear it feels like never again well meet
I swear, no, I know this mist represents
In some overly dramatic and unnecessary metaphor
The way feelings of you would come back
A malnourished racing mutt forcing it's way around the track
As I stared into the livid void escaping myself for brief seconds or minutes uncaring of the length
Each time i snapped back from a long destroyed fantasy It would be a little clearer
Have A little more clarity and when I use that cliche symbology
With cigarettes and poison and how it would burn my throat in a similar type of sting to the headaches behind my right eye coming out of this disillusionment
But for the first time I let it fester, the cigarette I mean
Ash away between my legs as the
Mist
Stayed and seemed to reappear
I talked to you in the field but no one was there
I haven't accepted it yet
It feels like I may never
But I wrote songs about that visage
Burned inside my eyelids
Each 14th of november
That's your day
That no one can take
I'll appropriate for art
But if you wish then I will forsake
It hurt
The shivers from the cold
It hurt
To know that alone I'll grow old
It hurt
The gaining masses in my lungs
They hurt
My bones and this body will burn
Were it not
Were it not
For the mist in port Jefferson staring back off the dock

I Am Very Unhappy & Scared

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