at 4 o'clock you're magic
intoxicating like the sweetest perfume, heady like aged liquour
my vision begins to blur
you're the only thing i ever get to see when my world is spinning like this
let go of my hand
you have a very aggressive gravitational pull and i can't stay on my feet
i don't need you
not like this, not while i'm so powerless as you squeeze my heart on my palm
is this really love?
sometimes the lines get very blurred and the alphabet collapses into itself
but you yourself don't know what that is while i'm stuck swimming and drowning
high tide, low
full moons come and go and i'm still trapped in this storm you call destiny
turn back time
or at least let me wish for the hands of the clock to move in retrograde
grant me mercy
i'm running out of oxygen in this deserted shore and the water keeps rising
please let go
i want to be mine again but your fingers keep digging into my wrist
what is love
other than a sip of absinthe
into a dopamine-deprived body
in a dark room at 4 am?
