He poured some passion
Plucked me as fruit
I was healthy; a milky way
His sweet comfort
His wild girl
A bud turned bloom in his hands

∆ Neural Alchemist | Self-mythologist ∆
He poured some passion
Plucked me as fruit
I was healthy; a milky way
His sweet comfort
His wild girl
A bud turned bloom in his hands
She sways and she fades
Condensing as we name her audacious
Sometimes I shout it too
With her I had no clue
.
My love comes in all forms
She’s cold and lukewarm
When she melts I melt with her
I have faith in her rigid lorn
.
Chant and sing these warnings
She is everything
She is nothing within
On the mountain where I placed her
She was my only friend
.
I was free to scrutinize her
She was decay and serpent
Offered me to experience life freely
She wouldn’t dare come with me
I’d repent to see her nearly
The window is broken but you open it still
Creating mass and spaces to sit on
To worry about; challenge freedom in
You help me speak and understand nothing
There is no right or wrong with you
The mystic, the wonder
The ending of my cycles
Severed as selfish stings of venom
It’s you
It’s you
You gave, oh yes you did
Fickle flavor created my taste
And as my appetite fluctuates
I choose to starve
Washed over in drought
Sand dunes and Florida watered illusions
I see you
I saw you
I thank you

Cotton pink undertones
Close by with gentle age
She was creamy, so soft
My eyes sparkled as we met
Pixie baby looking all confused
Going for a ride with mine
I sit silent
I study her magic
The way her skin rainbows
The concern in her delicate sweet face when I leave
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