rings of red rim perfectly gold irises
condemning me to exile in a world of delight
my minds linger in a summer with sticky skin
and adventure calling my name in the night

I lay in my bed, and hear nothing but the sound of cars passing by
you are simply a fantasy, something to think about when I close my eyes

I ache to quell this yearning for expansion;
to drive in your car and see where we go
It won't happen and these dreams are transient
I'm fed up with thinking these thing so please, leave me alone.

Inside me there is something like a chrysanthemum,
Irradiating a light like the sun.
Growing, it unfolds an oasis of bliss
Chalk full, it pours a dismantling happiness.
It feels like my ribcage is about to burst.
Warm and heart beating, like I was shot first.
the gun to my chest is his voice in my ear
I tried my best over the course of this year.

woke up thinking about death
staring at the opposite wall
I used to be scared to death of dying
But it hasn't crossed my mind in awhile
So I tried to imagine the deformed abyss
The lack of color and ever-changing, nondescript shapes.
The pressure in my eye sockets and absence of thought
But I realized
*I just don't care anymore

we couldn't be friends even if we wanted to be
it might be unfar to him but more to me
That he be one way and I another

I see him in myself everyday
I want to be like him in every way
and he probably just sees me as something like a brother

In a land
where their skin glows
and everything goes
people aren't afraid of tomorrow
of the places they'll go

when perturbed with a question,
they just say I don't know
instead of a simple no
they don't cry out, oh!
they dont ask to say it isn't so

They wait for a reunion;
the stars are their home
they dance till they die singing let me go
in an instant they can vanish in smoke
***** oil left behind by the hoax

I wanna go.

untie me from this earth and let me go
he is beauty divine and I am nothing but his
free me from this man who I do not know
I want to be mine and be taken away from this

barefeet on needles and sticks among pines
I rub them in my palms, impress little lines
I fail to count the thousands of eyes
squeezing the seeds out and whisper goodbyes

nobody ever really talks about it
most everybody has thought about it
there is more relief, than the actual action,
thinking about the release and reaction.