My lover was passive
He was made of glass and
We didn’t appear full enough
Tried making eye contact in summer trees
Seeing we weren’t meant to become lucid bees
Just tiny things playing make believe

∆ Neural Alchemist | Self-mythologist ∆
My lover was passive
He was made of glass and
We didn’t appear full enough
Tried making eye contact in summer trees
Seeing we weren’t meant to become lucid bees
Just tiny things playing make believe
I’m not sure of what I am feeling, my heart can break, my ego; callous
What keeps me asleep is a range to run
Emotional in wake I bake the sun
Holes of bittersweet spit up, you nuzzling my breast till numb
Turning in, on and off
Tuning off, out and in
I attempt to sing those sensitive songs, I pretend with oneself, playing once upon a time
There’s no where to go as my soul is magnetic to your salvation, even here the space of our bodies deafening
I don’t know exactly why this fight takes flight, ideal is a winners war; no casualties
You toke hold of each finger
Making promises
Saying prayers
Void of faith