Jungles of nakedness
Grow into entangled gardens
You make it appear really easy
Yet in someone else's definition of reality
It's actually quite dangerous
Let alone difficult and terrifying
Still there’s nothing out of the ordinary
Just more of my oneiric meandering
You see its a bit like gambling on love
We say we trust the unconscious
But not enough to let it lead us there entirely
So instead we treat ourselves
To anything but the taste of our own sorrow