Give me illness. Give me weakness. Give me jealousy.
I'll bear it all in the name of sleeplessness and the martyr that i wanted to be.
I'll put my hands on expensive cars and imagine luxuries-
a simple gesture towards a new tomorrow.
It'll be what we wanted it to be,
or it won't be anything.
Change the water.
Change the sweaters.
Change the shades of gray,
because only yellows represent solutions
in the form of the light of a new day.
I've seen it come in tides,
and trusted theme park rides
as daffodils pissed arnica honey.
If I had hair like yours i wouldn't fuck with anything.