It's unlikely that I'll see you eye to eye
or bother avoiding delicacies.
you're too sweet, you see.
you're too sweet, and you're perfect for me.
And I wanted to be devastated.
I want to feel numb and cross.

I want to live in a crawlspace of life
because as much as there is a soul for everyone
mine has died. he has died.

he has died in my arms, and I crushed his corpse
to dust, for me to shove into my eyes
and gather the semblance of irrational vulnerability.
Because to be frank, I feel nearly nothing.

My mind is vacant, as my eyes, as my heart.

Do you regret? I regret some stuff.
Not a lot. Not so much to fill a book.
But enough to fill a sentence.

I regret living in my head.

To disconnect from my head would be bliss.
To reconnect with earth would be bliss.

I called you a king.
Draped you in waking robes
and kissed your feet with misery,
I called you a king.

And you are that,
and I regret
rebelling.