Your lies are insurmountable
But they are brittle as glass
I move the stars around the night sky
To hope that somehow,
I will move you

Your eyes are undeniable
But they are darker than the night
I move these colors around your halo
To hope that somehow,
I will move you

Your second glances are unattainable
But they're not as clairvoyant as they seem
I move these cars along this highway
To hope that somehow,
I will move you

Your aftertaste is unpalatable
But it lingers beyond the morning
I move my lips along the shadows on your skin
To hope that somehow,
I will move you

Starfield, as scattered as this mind
And sirens,
As shrill as darkness redesigned
Forgive me, please, forgiveness
For I have granted you to the undeserving

Starfield, as bright as your eyes
And sirens,
As dead as this compromise
Forgive me, please, forgiveness
For I have left you weary from overuse

Starfield, as lost as misery
And sirens,
As distant as you are to me
So forgive me, please, forgiveness
For I have finally led you here to die

Nothing's on my mind
Least of all, you
Because the world scatters its superstitions
In varying shades of blue

Sacrifice your sanity
To chase bliss with calloused feet
Sacrifice your yesterdays
For a glimpse of tomorrow's heartbeat

Sacrifice your piteous condition
For a second chance at history
Sacrifice the bittersweet aftertaste
After you leave what's left of me

Nothing's on my mind
Least of all, you
Because the world spins on emptiness
In varying shades of blue

What is relevant?
Am I?
The guardian of my world and its core?
Defender of my lies and my saline?
Protector of my secrets and my dreams?
Or does my immobile body lie still?
Still as a fallen tree, years after erosion

What is comfortable?
Am I?
With the innocence that I victimize?
With the harvests that I destroy?
With the choices that murmur their doubts?
Or do my bones creak with malaise?
Locked into place like a villain at the end

What is everlasting?
Am I?
With a court of misconceived notions?
My mortality held in question?
The bevy of epithets dispersed in my honor?
Or does the realm erode with every misdeed?
Cracking from the strain of my imprudence

What is fallacious?
Am I?
The sayer of nays from a golden throne?
Baseless breaker of laws and hearts alike?
Miscreant traitor of my own kin?
Or is this truth aching for the surface?
Like a seedling stretching out for the sun

There's no evidence
Outside of the standard fare
Newspapers, melodies, and such
That any of us are real

The way we dispatch
With pleasantries and daydreams
And recoil from the sunrise
With the swiftness of a blink

There's only proof
That we squander oxygen
With every infected inhalation
And do it all over again

Traced by a pencil,
We're still waiting
For a simple splash of color,
Both brilliant and bright

Sometimes, my words end up lost in translation  
I feel as though I'm speaking
To a room full of bystanders
None of whom care what spills forth
From this cotton mouth

It's like there are two of me
One to speak the words
And another to think the thoughts
Neither are in communication
Neither know who the hell I am

Scatter-brained is a loose term
Loosely held together by patience
And carelessly painted grey mornings
My head collects the words
And the same head rejects the connotations

I can't open my lips for all this trembling
I've never been one to placate nerves
Or to weave brilliance out of inhibitions
I just ransack the audience's hopes
And sprinkle them with pessimistic hail

Some might believe I may be hamstrung
By a heel only Achilles might covet
And a frailty in how I read between the lines
If I fail to impress, will I just forget?
Or scar myself with phantoms of things unsaid?

Undoubtedly, there are places for people
Like me, of my ilk, of my stature
Not that I've ever stumbled into such a place
Or climbed the ladders that they set
In front of feet that prefer the ground