I'm not even joking when I say I wish I never had to go back. I want to avoid it like the plague and hide among the tall grass reeds that scatter their way across eyelids, dashing and dotting our perception with shimmering golden flakes.
And you wonder why you are prisoner inside that gilded cage? It's because you're evidently jaded, love.
Yet no matter what you do you'll never clarify purpose, nor clarify life's fleeting and unpredictable life span.
If you could dust the flecks off and take a look in technicolor, you'd try to see me. You'd try to break free.
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