You are havoc, audacious, holding on to things I never once could give to you.
Seize my bare limbs as a beg for you to stay keen on me, but you were only infatuated by the idea of everything I could be, and my quick slurs of admiration and bitter solutions.
I may be too lost to follow, too difficult to sort out,
maybe our glazed eyes and capacious minds are too spiraled to align, too forbidden to deny.
Maybe I am too deranged, not lilt or comely like others.
I've been too unwary for your fervid melodies that we've dissembled before I could symphonies my broken mentality.
