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We found the smoking gun but we wouldn’t tell a soul The you that I would tell everything to Left me sinning and spinning in my own cave of exulansis, on my own island of impending radical forgiveness on my own isolated planet of despondence and ricocheted resilience Sending postcards from a planet in dissolve But if I could never sum up what you mean to me in a lifetime of conversation, How could I tell you in a few lines drawn from my desecration? Have we been through so much, Or is everything just a thousand times bigger for me? I found the single match that set this place ablaze Even a gun to my skull would still spark a waterfall of words Addressed to you But never another soul Alone in Antarctica with a spirit so cold You wear a lotus on your shirt But I don’t see you being “reborn” You wear a chest on your shirt but do you consider yourself a “treasure”? I’m afraid these burning questions Are nothing but an oathful tune mocking an inevitable “are you sure?” Have we been through so much, Or is everything just a thousand times bigger for me? I try to be the flowers to your garden, But I’m afraid I’m just the weeds I’m ever growing and uninvited Have we been through so much, Or is everything just a thousand times bigger for me? But your nicknames and taciturn support Is the komorebi that reveals me sprouting and pouting! If you are the soil then I’m just the weeds Ever growing and uninvited But you knew what came along with planting a garden Have we been through so much already, Or is everything just a thousand times bigger for me? Here we are, cutting loose ends, building shrines over their heads and worshiping our friends But you know you have to deal with the weeds to bloom a garden Writing bibles under your name, pretending I don’t worship you as a friend Sending postcards from a planet in dissolve But I could never sum up what you mean to me Not in a lifetime of conversation, Not in any form of poetic substance of any archaic language, Lost and forgotten But even weeds have potential and serve the sun's purpose So please don’t forget me when my relentless ego boosts Have made you a greater scale of famous But I know you need someone who doesn’t sit in a throne, waiting to take a torch to your omissions And I know you can find a light in the darkness you take your shots in I know you don’t need me Sending postcards from my planet of disillusion, Lost and forgotten
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