we’re both going through the motion, we’re both living somewhere else.
i need your average illusions to feed my inner lung.
your offensive is plastic free
harm free, wound free, toxic free
the structure in your head.
an overused dull arrow,
so narrow, turns my brain to steam
the chemical reaction at its lowest point
it might have just stopped from burning
paint you on my wall
does that bother you, dear at all?
whisper me about that dream within a dream
the you’s and me’s that don’t just hide
we didn’t ended up like others
ashamed of who we are and what we do and who we might
dissolve slightly into this cold winter night…
sleep tight dear, you’re perfectly sane