Sometimes, when I'm upset, I feel like pulling the sun down
Sometimes, when I'm upset, I feel like pulling the sun down,
To yank the rays from its tousled hair with a dreamy frown.
Lip vibrations—apologies lament the color in my veins,
My thoughts fly, uncultured, like lost birds in night’s dark lanes.
Your mind, styled by my trivial foolishness, spins around,
My lazy thoughts, twisted words, in chaos are bound.
My brewing winds, acute crises of epileptic flair,
Like any earthbound soul, child or creature in despair.
Each with a mind full of rotten resignation,
Stories are guides between us, an endless connection.
Pagan shepherds invade the lazy Christian sheep,
They club my good thoughts, like dreams in beauty steeped.
Propped up in a future, somber, controversial, and abstract,
When I slip the world's Apocalypse into your womb, an intact pact,
A hidden longing, in unseen abysses it’s stored,
The world changes, but our love cannot be ignored.
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