Call it Cloud 9

april flowers

everybody comes and go's,
we live together highs and lows,
and when the time is up you pack and go,
ill sit on the bedroom floor, ill stay in my low,

i know just how this cycle spins,
we laugh, we cry, and then i feel it in my back,
its like the constant betrayal is Judas-sent,
and my broken trust is a self-attack,

its always around the spring time when its the start of a new test,
blurry figures are put into my life and i just pick and run and hope this flavours nice,
i've lost count of how many of the wrappers i opened i had to close again,
so the next time that its spring time can the seasons take a rest and not move so fast?

but this is the last spring,
and in my April Flowers that i was born in,
this time around it will be blooming into a new phase,
and flowers are weak, they are fragile,
so if you're not down to water my plants then if i cut you dont expect to be planted in a new soil batch,

your leaves will turn yellow,
your petals refusing to open,
and someday someone new will pick you up and find you a pot,
and only then will you feel my broken.