I give them flowers
Write letters
Try to be better
Stay together
I read books
On wearing better clothes
To make myself
Available to them
The problem is them
I call it them
I call them separate
I spend too much time alone, is that the answer
I watch too much fiction
To see them as my own
Stop saying them, I wanna try
But as I know, habits are old
I speak of love
I speak sincerely
But recently I recognize
My ego running freely
Desires, wants, loneliness
Guilt, validation and horniness
It speaks to me like wisdom
But it's in my power to listen
Dreams come with narratives
The feelings that I crave
I hit them up, I speak some lies
Inevitably I feel shame
I know I speak of love
My higher conscious
But I speak because of you
Because you make it obvious
But I write and think and analyze
But the words don't ever fit
I lack the strength to empathize
With your essence and perspective
I'm no detective when looking at myself
No clues but self doubt and a lack of respect
I can't stop yelling at myself
Maybe that's why love is off the shelf
Maybe I need to love myself
But pride is on me
Pride is growing on me
Pride is everything if I can't stop from boasting
Ego bloating, narcissistic
I can't love when I don't love shit
Psychopathic, self centered spastic
Act like there's no motive in your actions
I know that your impartial
But I feel pressure
Higher conscious let me know
I'm in danger
I walk this path in hopes of
Seeing you more clearly
I walk this path without desire
But with purity
I seek the me in you and
Everything along the way
But I walk this path the same way I do
Every day
Oh higher conscious
Higher being
If you're me
Speak of love and
Tell me everything that it can be
Speak of love and
Give me eyes to find what I can see
I speak of love, I know
But I won't until I'm sure
I try to put this analyzation
Into big words
But even the analysis is a form of contradiction
I'm not observing, I am judging myself
I can't introspect to liberate
This motive isn't pure
I just want to validate
I can't not judge others
When I judge myself
Cut the music there's no sense
In any action if it's suffering
In fact I shouldn't speak anymore
My words are a form of violence
They judge me, they judge you
Never feel complete therefore I can't write nothing else nor stay on beat
I can't say anything if it's not pure
I am contradiction