Every piece to every particle, I wish you were mine.
Digging through the deepest trench
of the nerves,
All I could trace were faces—all whom which I could not recognize, nor possess.
Every time the blood flows,
Every time the mind thinks,
Every time the consciousness speak,
Traces of each particle from where it first existed still remain.
All you are is just a fragment of other people.
Neither broken nor whole,
Yet the crave to own you still exists,
along with the insatiable thirst of witnessing the past—
Where everything about you started.
Dec 29, 2025
Dec 29, 2025 at 3:16 AM UTC
Every piece to every particle, I wish you were mine.
Digging through the deepest trench
of the nerves,
All I could trace were faces—all whom which I could not recognize, nor possess.
Every time the blood flows,
Every time the mind thinks,
Every time the consciousness speak,
Traces of each particle from where it first existed still remain.
All you are is just a fragment of other people.
Neither broken nor whole,
Yet the crave to own you still exists,
along with the insatiable thirst of witnessing the past—
Where everything about you started.