An interesting level of consciousness
To break in this anatomy
If you don’t go through brokenness
You are a simple dichotomy
So wreck me to my core
To spill these guts out
And take my wounds mix them
With salt, pepper, lemon
Make a salad of dreams
That you take a bite out of
And spit out because it is not the right mix of flavor
Wrong
Who are you to say I am wrong
This was not made for you
This was made for me
It is a delicacy
That you will never understand
As long as I am on the ground
But once I am gone
You will long for my flavor