Framed
Trap my torture
Paint on my skin and give me sequin eyes
Green like the sea
No, take that back, blue
just like they've always appeared just to you
Shine my ego
Sleep in the crook of my arm
Snore when you want
Breathe heavy and dream like you're light
whisking the day into hours which bleed just for spite
Grab decision
Hold it in fingers white knuckled and weak
It's slipping, it's slipping
and somehow I know I must sanity keep
for the hours left ahead, be it dreams in my bed
or stiff daylight and sidewalks to be walked in the sun
I know character is a painting still drying, half spun
Take my photo
Only in black and in white and in grey
This way there's wonder
Open-endedness stays
and somehow the moment still breathes in it's ease
trapping my torture, frame me as you please...
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