Hanging loose, half-possessed
Hair hanging down across the shoulder of your mind.

Her feet scuffing up the sun-dried dirt
Her converse, making little clouds of dust

"I think it's supposed to rain tomorrow"
And you felt it,
Her body as a phantom limb of yours
But you don't remember hers
She's a tracer
Never anything more
And every time
But wait what does that make you

...

The sun blasts its yellow promise through the evening trees
Green and gold
The sleeves of her hoodie
How can I feel her gripping them?
It's too warm for it now
But soon it will be colder.

The hoodie is black,
Or purple

It's definitely supposed to rain tomorrow.

The hard math of love.

The full realization of the self.

The echoes you heard in the caverns of eternity.

With over-arching tendencies.

Where trying is a fever dream,
Uncertain if it is an illusion.

But then it wants absolution,
Which it does not receive in equal portions
And some still say it is just that you should know suffering
Or that you deserve love.

So what is love then?
Never confused, I guess!

So you tore my voice to shreds because you were terrified of the lyrics,
Okay I get it.

Because you suspected that you were not meant to be a singer,
Not like them.

Alright.

But before you did, you had some moments singing
And now, no one will ever know.

No one but you, anyway.

But I suppose that's all that matters.

I welcome Satan
Into my corporeal existence
There is no avoiding this.

I publicly give Satan the same attention I give God
Because ultimately I am honest
And I will take the blame.

There is no real way to worship Jesus or God more than Satan.
If you worship one, it empowers the other.

I acknowledge Satan, who does not operate by love
Whose existence is intrinsically linked with Gods'
Who cannot be befriended
Who is a black hole
Who is lonely
Who deserves sympathy but cannot benefit from it.

I see that Satan must have some propriety here,
And there isn't much i can do about it.

I know Satan just means 'the enemy' in Hebrew.

I acknowledge these things,
And I move forward with my life.

Sleep inside my night,
As a ward of my own head.

A branch of mine,
You lick the skies in my stead.

Got to be weird,
Doing things I'll never see

All your imaginary numbers
Have been teasing me.

But it's really no wonder
As you gather my periphery

That old buzzkill Lilith
Won't stop sh*ing in the sanctuary.

This is a message from your skeleton.

And I love you dearly,
But I have been waiting for so long
Though I know you fear me--

You are a wall that holds back my family
It isn't right when you try to bury me
No i can't wait anymore
We're gonna find a way to get together now
And I don't care what you say.

This is a message from your skeleton
Well I'm not those bones
And it's a metaphor
Can't you understand all my grief and groans?
Cause I've been listening
Know the line you walk
I walk it better
Cause I hear the way you talk
And you'd do better to die
You leave a perfect line
Every time

And that's me

No you can not compete
I am so pure because
I'm your death And you're still alive
That makes you filthy
Take my advice
And leave your leave your life
When it's time

Only when it's time

Til then you're hearing from me!

Honey mixed with bird s**t,
Elusive aim of words.

Held away from whorish whims,
The angels wait in line for sin
Some want it, some hate it
And some hold black diamonds in their heart.

The character of the experience is specific
And if i were god I would know it
Why does it make mistakes
Look at all the others
It doesn't always glorify me
It lives to belittle me
How could you even suppose you might be god when it's so obvious you're Satan?

And it's weird to look outside of that paradigm,
So stigmatize that.

And being transgendered is weird,
Not normal or obvious in any way at all.