
Kill Me


∆ Neural Alchemist | Self-mythologist ∆

you see
i know how to be
courteous,
a beggar;
believer
a star in the night
holding me
His palm was my soil
I was his butterfly, on my admirer’s hand
I just cherished how he handled me
His words, lack of
Every per centum
All the negative space
He was the seed that planted me
They would call me insane if they knew of the voices I have above my head
They would call me insane if I told them of my enlightened mind
So they want us to think aloud
And share all our secrets?