[Mitch]

She is in my head,
I send her thoughts without a breath,
She thinks the same as I do,
I still need confirmation,

I don't trust myself.
So I can't trust her either.
She has eyes of fire.
Desperate for reaction.

She gives herself to change.
I'll take her either way.
She fights my fate and fucks my mind.
I suffer blind, she likes the light in pain.

I'm fucking fine, she tries to file me in another case.
I'm not one of her stones she chisels the crust from
to paint a core she acts like she didn't come up with
in a minute cut from the constant drilling of nonsense.
But just cus' i'm not one of them
doesn't mean I couldn't fit in their skin i figured it an accomplishment.
Predictable is miserable, honest is a principle conflicting with progress.
I process information tinted by my bias to perfect the picture in my mind
instead of bending pixels in my life to match the image I've designed.
I guess i'm destined to never finish, I only measure beginnings,
and when the well runs dry, I measure the distance
with two sticks in a camp fire, sending SOS signals.
Music isn't trivial, She doesn't listen to her damned heart.
Sandpapered her fingertips picking strings
so i see why she feels resistant to sing to me
with the whole missing identity. Shes a landmine,
I tripped and pretended that the explosion wasn't a result
of the moment, the motion of falling.

I know it's my fault and I'm sorry for thinking we'd ever be anything
more than a symptom of energy letting us form an opinion but setting in
motion our course with a force we don't know but are living with just cus'
its easy to flow with the river and hope we can keep moving forward forever.