Timid to revisit certain memories, on the pretty curtained roof I hash out melodies.
Sit with my pen to start over again; seems nothing comes out unless I dwell in complication.
Seems we have built our own cage.
Trying to be free can take up your whole day.
I wish I could recall the way you made me feel before I had to question if the life we had was real.
In a stupor of sorrow, I had been deceived.
Now the gift of patience is the least you can give to me.
I no longer need to see the cherry blossom trees.
Those tarnished blooms have lost some of their beauty.
Through the force of captivation I follow you still, as I try a little harder to inflict my own will.
Then you suspend time and make me believe there's no other place my body should be.
Naked in the forest, I'm still a baby.
No such thing as transgressions or fallacies.
The water is falling to wash over me.