I wake up to you
But I don’t come home to you
The permissions that you
Give yourself to be
With your friends
With yourself
But not with me
Different than the
Permissions that you
Give yourself
To be with me
What if the things
That my mother was saying
Were sorted so that I
Could understand
Myself
Unveiling deception
Asks the necessary question
To be a part of one
Another makes us some
Perhaps closer
To being estranged
Less likely to fall in love
Hopelessly and yet
Here we are
Attempting to chew
Away at the truth
© GÄ
Poétique 