stuck in a wave
and prepared to drift
away from the birds
that offer their gifts
a trigger goes off
when you lye and soak free
a mind that has lost
its flare to the sea
the stick that you use
to beat your blood with
is now just a tool
that won't unlock shit
the formal attire
you wore to show off
has been torn by the tires
of your former loves
"and you'll go away forever if leaving gives you time to find out what to sever and to seek out what to hide
for worse or for better you'll still have her by your side, cause she's your kind..."
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