Enter at your own risk,
I’m lost in thought and have no script
I think a lot, I’m prone to fits
I’ve been fucked up, still at 36
I feel like Rogue, that X-Men chic
I have to watch who I touch, who I open up with
I mean well, but my mind is a bitch
She talks to me so hypnotically, captain of the ship
I feel kind of irrelevant, she’s tripping again and always wins
We’re both victims..here sitting..waiting on who knows it
Her opinions on what fixes shit, is quite different and I’m lost in
My own toxic far fucking lost subconsciousness.
Don’t get to probing too much and decoding my junk
This is just poetic symbolism
One form of getting me up up away and lifted
From all of it,
Even if but for moments