Written while listening to Bon Ivers' For Emma, Forever Ago
I'd imagine it with a similar tune：


Great Delusion

By：Yisselakh

Verse 1：

I tried standing in the rain
Like an indie movie scene
Even cliches have their meaning
As the film grain begins melting
Did you also think
Sink in that wishful thinking
Our great delusion

Chorus 1：

That if things had been
What they could have been
We would have been
Ceaselessly happy
Happy
Happy

Verse 2：

Now think
What would we have been
Seeking
If that mundane
Had been the state of things

Bridge:

Would you think
Would you think
Would you think
Then

Chorus 2：

That if things hadn't been
What they would have been
We would have been
Boundlessly Happy
Happy
Happy


CODA：

That's our Great Delusion
So probably it's better to let it be
That regret silently gnawing
Let's not rush back in
Shattering that good old dream
And leave us nothing
Nothing
Nothing
But the Great Numbing
Of the loss of wishful thinking

That we could have been
Happy, happy, happy

"Tell me how far you will go if you really want to keep me close.” The lyric sounds present yet absent, too familiar to pay attention to, though it hints me on our unspoken accord. “I remember tears streaming down your face when I said I will never let you go.” As a result it can't advance, it can't take the upper hand. I'm euphoric with that firm embrace though i never ever shared it with anyone else. Without a lucid expression to each other we know that, if we chose to, we could venture into something reckless, even pointless. “Feeling close but we are faraway, farther than we think we are.”

As the cabin fell languish, I found my sentience lucid than expected. Is the caffeine reining in the back, out of all cases as the most eminent one? It’s way better than the impasse of drowsiness anyway. The interstice of the window shut down glimmers. Amorphous sense of prelude. I’m stunned with and at peace with the pace my two neighbors and I created. At the moment while their breath calmed arms staggered in their dreams, I hope I am too. “There’s monster in my dreams, I should fight’em but I let them in. It’s killing me slowly.”

The nightmare creeped as the plane is declining height. As the air pressure changes my ear didn’t feel well. All the machinery rumble made a soundscape in and of itself. “Meet me in the middle of night and let me hear you say everything’s okay.” I shut out the world to open up thoughts, to let the inner universe take over. As I'm inwardly present and completely distant comes the greatest moment that transcends all language. To compose poetry is not to utter but to listen, so does anthropology.

The astonishing sunset awaits us, no matter the exact time, as long as we dove down high from above and saw through at the right time. The New York City leaned, boosting its colonies of glow that stood in the night. I threw my sight from the window. What's happened there? Whose light is it? Whom is it lit for? I wonder, and I can’t see it clear. But the depth index is too big to see it clear; the blur blurs. Physically and figuratively.

I lost my confession
But why u repent?
I shot at the sky
Did sin see me salvaged?
I cradled insanity falling upward
Got the tune with me?
I mocked the thorn, faded
Yearning, bluing, prattling
I hummed the silent lyrics, nested
Could dandelions dare astray?

I’ve got a freckle on my top lip
You probably wouldn’t notice if
You weren’t up close

I’ve got a chip in my tooth
Now you know I bite my nails

I’ve got a weird way
Of moving my lower jaw
Back and forth when I talk
Now I bet that’s all that you can see

Now you can’t unsee anything about me
You can’t unsee anything about me
Now you can’t unsee anything about me

I’ve got elbow patches
Where no hair grows
But such hairy arms

And tattoos no one else
Seems to recognize

You’ve been
Looking at me from angles
I can’t see myself
I’m new to myself
In your eyes

Tell me, who am I?
To you. To you. To you. To you.

Now you can’t unsee anything about me
You can’t unsee anything about me

Maybe I should just let you
Figure some things out for yourself

But it took so long
To get my own **** straight
It couldn’t hurt for me to help

          You accept me
You can't unsee anything about me
          And look past these
You can't unsee anything about me
          Things you can’t unsee
You can't unsee
          Anything about me

To feel the hum of skin—
a rhythm under flesh,
bleeding ears of melodies
louder than memory.

Flaws fall, resting like
skipped notes on the floor
of silence. I said,
"I’m not a song, not a chorus,
not a chorus, nor the neat refrain
someone can replay.

Yet these songs in my ears—
they take me in, to teach me
how to belong.

I’m not a song, but maybe a lyric—
unfinished, still searching for the
right line. Perhaps in due time, to the
metronome of my heart.

****** up head and BPD, girl, I know you wanted me
Wanna see me in the dirt, wanna see me in a skirt
I wanna be cute like you, let me feel your molecules
**** me hard inside the church, then I'll show you my cute skirt

Girl, you make me so warm
Without you, I'm so bored
Your voice is stuck inside my head
My blood spilled, it's really red
Come right here and lick it up
Kiss my neck and **** me up
**** me 'til the sun's up, **** me 'til I throw up