Written by You call it the waiting season
I say it is the walk of shame
Who even are you?
Used to be the girl who dreamt while awake
simply because life was too adorable
Now you beg to marry your lids, keep those eyes shut
Maybe shed a few diamond tears
but you forgot how to conjure those too
The art of weeping is lost on you
It is believed to be better we move as we can say let’s move
Heavy is the head
a crown obese with caterpillars and cankerworms
You preside as honor at a trial
every version of you across all universes
fighting to crown who hoards the largest tribulations
It really is you versus you, a pain olympics
My only wish: make it a rap battle
at least you could borrow some rhythm
The world was too beautiful to be true, huh?
Maybe it’s you who won’t keep up.
A love letter to the girl who used to chase sunbeams, written by the ghost she became.
For anyone who’s ever woken up a stranger in their own skin.