π¦Ή π€ππ‘ππ π‘βππ‘ π€ππ'π‘ βπππ ππ‘π π βπππ π¦Ή
the water wonβt remember how to hold its shape drip drip drip, it slips away sink sink sink i almost drowned no, no, no, i'm not destined to drown fish are flying last yearβs rain fills both my shoes my words come out askew can't make something bright or new i don't want to fall in deep but the dark runs steep drenched and cold i start to shake still awake inside this lake i donβt want to sleep, but i do it always takes hold my body stretches wide across the cold the sun comes out and i wrap it quickly with the blanket tight afraid to let it shine, afraid that waking ends the night i see a false light at a tunnel that never ends a glimmer, glimpse, concept - it always pretends i can't comprehend! ink bleeds out it stains my skin i keep remaking this quilt, it crumbles, it's fading the mountains are about to collapse i stand as they witness a mediocre, jumbled up mess i open up my mouth to speak and every sentence breaks in pieces i listen to you her him and i take yours hers and his put it together to make mine mine my mind i cant decipher cant make interesting lines but i'm good at holding this disguise your words i take and rearrange the sound comes out so strange i can't explain, the shape i'm in, the shape i make the water wonβt keep its shape
