I am the Harvest

This is not accommodating anymore
I don’t think it ever was
The ghost you keep around to watch you breathe
Ends up asleep on the floor
Ironically
I’m alternate
Apparently
I’m the face
I declare this city’s all my own
A personal art exhibition
We’re all sick of this now, so if there’s room
I’ll ride the coattails with you
Ironically
I’m alternate
Apparently
I’m the face of this generation
Ironically
I’m alternate
Allegedly
I’m the voice
Look but please don’t touch
What I meant was something less significant and typical
What I meant was