i weigh on edges, to be broken before him
we dance in chances, to be one with them
and i’m skipping from oasis to chaos
to ecstasy like fish in trapped vases
can you taste it? how it feels to be with them
i lie like a thesaurus
in ways you can’t fathom
like a moth to a flame
we always seem to feel at stage
and i’m spinning in this
as if i ever knew what this is
to taste your neck
the nostalgic moments i can’t seem to fix
we revel in ideas of this
and i dance around the motions of him
as it feels good to stand before them
to waver in ideas of a mere 6 hours
as if you ever knew it meant more than this
you’re like spanish oak
the way i caressed your neck
a simple choke
do you still wonder of where i am
do you still wander of who i am
can you still taste my name
on the back of your neck
where we said so many delicacy’s
i often wonder what this was
if daisies could smell their own scent
we are often broken by divide
two minuscule beings
torn between two different places
twirling on wavering stages
seventeen years