Seems no matter my approach
She is broken to my words
She is absent to the world
Not just me
Climb through the cobwebs
With a different approach
Find your way in even if
It means that you arrive
Nowhere
Guard the back door with your life
There might be an inner fire
Under control
Histrionics or just dramatics
When I’m doing worse
She’s doing better
When I’m doing better
She’s doing worse
Like some munchausen spell
Deriving from what is a
Needless suffering or lack of
Sympathy for the abject reality
Of being alive, just a sorry kiddo
Is all you’ll get
Leading up to the
Constant replay betrayed by
Some kind of sorcery that
Keeps me ever returning to
Your oracle of death
© GÄ
Poétique 