Clarify my boundaries in shapes of barbed wires
I speak often nothing of you
When the greyhound bus collides
All the angry people rose in deny
Such is the loveless beakoning of our demise
I speak often everything to you
And yet my soul shifts to the mirrors
I touch, yet never get passed the reflections
Of that bus and all those who reside
"He's mine" I spat to thin vacuum of my listening
But the bus was all such a ruse, for the ambulance to drive by
Petrified of the boundary we shaped
In the forms of barbed wires
Jun 10, 2025
Jun 10, 2025 at 1:48 AM UTC
Clarify my boundaries in shapes of barbed wires
I speak often nothing of you
When the greyhound bus collides
All the angry people rose in deny
Such is the loveless beakoning of our demise
I speak often everything to you
And yet my soul shifts to the mirrors
I touch, yet never get passed the reflections
Of that bus and all those who reside
"He's mine" I spat to thin vacuum of my listening
But the bus was all such a ruse, for the ambulance to drive by
Petrified of the boundary we shaped
In the forms of barbed wires
Happy Pride
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