you planted trees down my worries—
grew love in all of the places i was
too afraid to shine
and now a forest grows in all of
the corners your fingers got to know
and magic leaves are dancing to your breeze

someone once told me that curiosity kills the cat
and yeah maybe when you first smiled at me
i wondered where you had been my whole life

and i think that's where we went wrong

just like the nights you spent telling me words
in the way your language speaks them
while i spent all of my belief
on the movement of your mouth
being the key to my soul’s wildest dreams

but magic is made up of tricks

and you sure are the master at making me think the trees from your seeds were real
but lately the plastic leave have melted
from the fire you had rekindled in my heart

but even if the words weren't true
you gave me something bright and new
and i know we all are trying to be
the best versions of these humans beings
so i don't blame you
for being what you came here to be
because really i chose you
to come do these things to my heart
i prayed and hoped my way to manifesting you
to be there when i looked up from my lonely hands

but my god

if only you hadn't come into work that night
if only i hadn’t stumbled to that side of the beach
to that side of the planet
if only i had done one thing differently in my past
maybe just maybe then
i wouldn’t have fallen into the arms of lost hope
and maybe we would have never known
that magic could exist in strangers
that love can be felt at first sight
and everything occurring now
would feel real

but instead
i am walking through some kind of lucid dream
and i can't figure out what my room
used to feel like
because now it looks so unfamiliar to me
just like the person i am

i can't find her

what did you do when i looked up at you
some kind of unkind love spell
i just want to be free...

i want you

but you don't have the room
for someone like me

you wish to buy my meat.
the butcher's cut is ripe and cheap;
a fresh-faced lamb of london streets
and everybody craves a piece.

*******. ribs. thighs.
money is no issue and they'll all see you gloat:
"my spread-eagled angel will be gnawed down to bone."
(god knows there's no heart in the matter.)

you wish to play the maggot.
you want your prey half-dead.
my flesh rots and decays on your tongue,
bloodied on the slab of your mattress.

"i'd rather die," i say, with your fist pressed to my cheek
               "i need you here," you say, as you cry...
                                  my face is bleak.

drip! drip! drip!
another bloodline decayed
i close my eyes and again i'm depraved.

i hold this key and it opens no door
your stare blisters me...
but leaves me wanting more.