Help me here.
Cause I lie inside.
Only see what’s near.
What’s left is hide.

Confused and built up.
Tension and frustration.
Release the cup.
Healing and confusion.

Be me or be me?
Who is I? Who am me?
Distorted and contorted.
Self-gratification.
Invites mutilation.

Mutilation of human.
Mutilation of divine nature.
Of birth given beauty to all.
Self-gratification objectifies others.
It destroys what could be possible.

Confusion and disconnect.
Birthed from elementary curriculum.
Who am me? Who is I?
I is ***. Me is ***. You are ***.

Arises tension and frustration from such confusion and disconnect.

But I am me. And you is you.
And we are people.
Not ***.
But *** they show, they teach, they preach.
Safe ***, taught in 4th grade P.E.

Frustration in no connection.
Tension in confused definition.
*** is love? But it’s not. But they say so.
They’ve said so for so long.

At 15 finally a boy is able to thinks and feel abstractly.

I feel physical love.
But something in my chest makes me need.
It makes me need you.
And I don’t have words for it.

They’ve only made us objects of an equation.

The sum is ***.

So excuse this mutual confusion please.
I’m sure we can figure it out together.

This mysterious feeling in my chest.
Makes me need to wrap myself around you.
As you wrap around me.
Makes me need to pull you into me.
And feel you pull me into you.

So close that we leave our bodies behind.
And only have what really makes us.

You’ve helped me hear.
Cause we lied inside.
Only saw what’s near.
What’s left is pride.