If my mind weren't infested with the thought of a million birds with the same name, I'd still be a fugitive of love.

You invested false time to see through me.
I fell, hit the floor only to realize it was a sealing.

Held a prisoner of your own design with my freedom wrapped around your finger.

I see myself as an excuse, a muse who will enhance your portrait of life.

I lost my keenness for the discovery of my heart, I was always a mind person anyways.