Can you stop inspiring me
Stop waking me up to the world within
It's not wrong to hate you- and i mean it
The words i breathe foam at the mouth and gnash and dance prettily in your absence
Careful and ugly
Spinning, spinning, spinning
Stop
There's power in me now
Unlike anything you ever prophesied in spite
Dark and unimaginable and
Sometimes i'm afraid
Would you blame me if I retained my zeal for closeness and delicate conceptions?
You and i you and i you and eyes see clearer and darker and farther away
Spinning, spinning, spin, spin
Stop, stop, stop
I would have been it all
The smells, the tastes, the head rush and aforementioned muse
They don't stop coming to me now
i invite the words and ideas and pages; common notations and awkward mental suffocations all trapped in an unassuming rush of putrid symphony
Call the words to you
I say
Keep them and love them and they will show the insides of reality
Universes contained in the backs of eyelids. Clouds climbing and building towards the unknown like sharp mountains in the sky...
Don't mistake me for some vengeful goddess trapped in a body well built enough to inspire sweet floral smells and sugary thin delight
My descriptions cannot be so easily contained
Some days i am small and tired but also willing
Others i am even smaller and withered by just the tiniest hint of wind
Different kinds of days pull different kinds of me
Other kinds of me push other kinds of days
Write me and i will always prove you wrong
Paint me and i will morph unrecognizable
Sing me and i will erase all memory of clouds and comfort
Sunshine is harsh
Moonlight is healing
Dusk is disappointing
Dawn is terrifying
Shun the day and pray for night
