Perfect timing does not exist
I acquired wanderlust.
But I felt like a fine dust.
Do you ever see shooting stars
And wonder if we came from mars
I’m not a mind reader but I need attention
And that makes me a crowd pleaser
So I let it go too far
I’m dealing with
ghosts of affection.
driving in a theory that this is a
Figment of the imagination.
Bringing Ghosts of the past.
angels, demons, or a hallucination?
Figment of the imagination:
illusions, verbal delusions, an imposition.
A passing of the hallucination:
Philosophy of crowd pleasing
Aware of our mortality
retaliating in haunting imagery
Stars shooting while they’re
Jumping over the moon
I wonder if we come from mars.
Relax
Listen to my story
It wasn’t an angel or a demon.
It was yesterday’s ghost
Electrifying the crowds.
Sometimes I wish I could crawl
Right into the blue sky
To cry with the clouds.
I acquired Wanderlust
But since I am fine dust
You kicked up a fuss
With white sheets of rain
I have become restless.
You want to talk about feelings:
I’ll be in the corner with the reasons
I was floating through seasons
Sneaking the inkling that
I had hit my ceiling.
Unconcerned, I was healing
Until you flipped and I was dealing
With the suspicion that
You were cheating.
It was easy til it got deeper
And then I saw the reaper
To spy on; I don’t know.
I’m not a mind reader
but I need attention
From the ghosts of affection.