They won’t remember your car that switches,
Or that on your face you had a large protruding dot
Or that you were five foot wishing for more inches
Or that you did anal on a billionaire’s yacht.
I mean, they can see it now—and oh boy, do they see it!
Your body may be disgusting or just the opposite.
Still, those of now fill your mind with their current norm
And meanwhile, Jupiter’s got a 12,000-mile storm.
It’s weird how we behave how we look like (a sign they stole you).
It’s persuasive to appeal to the herd in front of you,
But your lyrics, formulas, blueprints—your light—
Goes beyond the 5’ earth package you did not choose.
And even if you try, the angel may not come for you
And admittedly, this life of hurt may never stop hurting,
But make your blueprint, the one you can otherwise choose,
Because it may have wings to fly to those searching.