残忍な

it seems the stars aren’t meant for me or your lips meant for mine are the constellations lies like your midnight messages? i’m sick of looking at an empty sky filled with wishes and shooting stars but made only of black holes in my eyes sometimes i see a light over the horizon i smile to myself and think the morning will come it’ll come but it never does it’s just a false dawn so much like you

“an examination of the people around me” some people are needle and thread, their souls over-used by the hands of working men. others are fabric itself, blanketing nations and beds but never quite covering toes. if i had to defile you, confine your essence with words, i would write how your effervescent soul fills a bathtub with bubbles that reach for the ceiling, filling the room, but are popped - the perpetrator a smiling boy. you are an artificial tidal wave as the ocean bellows next door.