Yet, I fail. From time to time, I will fail. I try to minimize the failure, To be the mind, and not the wind, To be a kin, and not akin, To be a friend, not a fiend. But when we sail, I'm not the sailor, I am the tempest.
How many times do I have to die to keep on living? How many stars do I have to burn to keep on breathing? How many tires have to be flat to stop me from crashing? How many starts do I have to stop from the beginning?
How many lives do I have to live to have one that's my own? How many burns do I have to inflict to feel my own bones? How many lies do I have to tell to feel that I've grown? How many times will I have to hide to not be alone?
you ever have that feeling where it’s almost like you miss someone you’ve never met? it comes in passionate waves where the urge to hug them or kiss them is inexplicably real sometimes I daydream a little bit deeper than that I imagine meeting them and fulfilling all of my fantasies until they become deja vu
Let me be your Isis I'll scavenge the land for the pieces of you they've stolen and fit each and every piece back together with delicate fingers Your kintsugi astounds me, each and every break so beautiful It is not my reflection I admire as my eyes dwell along and ride the golden rivers you try and keep from me Let me be your Isis let me see the melancholy spill from your eyes the snap of your spirit when my words are like sin I am not perfect, and I will drown in my folly like gin down my father's throat my father does not know how to swim. But your pain is like a gasp of breath sometimes when it reminds me that you are of the firmest birch tree your bark does not bend to just any wind and the symphony of susurrus that accompanies the midnight breeze, escaping the ivory lamina of your leaves, each note leaping off of every blade like a dancer, are NOT composed by just any sultry sylph Let me be your Isis Be my Osiris, a masterpiece