In the smoke of the factory, a stop button.
But as soon as I got down to the unknown place
a cat made of milk and concrete,
seeing my poison, cried out.
From a shopping bag a green onion is jutting out;
I notice a silver sweatshirt littered on the street
Even filling my empty and slow brain
with anxiety does nothing to relieve my hunger
I've grown used to the ripe goods, my arrangements are like always.
The more I repeat the actions
the more distant they seem to become.
It won't reach a rolling boil—
it seems to pollute the very bubbles resting on my skin.
I can't distinguish color, I can't tell tastes either.
DNA that makes solitude much too radiant—
it makes the glow of life too bright for anyone to stay standing.
I still get lost, and though there are no lights on this road
there's a surplus of breaths that don't reach me
Even if I live on reflex like this,
I pass by the fact that I can't change anything
and it runs rampant in my mind
Now I'm hoping to be hurt
Because if I wish for a light that I've never seen—
Even if I sacrifice my true feelings
to a pitfall that no one understands
Even if I fit myself into a box, I would just be abandoning
my self-esteem to the dimly-lit morning.
If I were to live according to script
by at times sometimes conforming
Then I'd just be nodding along without ever learning how to worry, or anything else
I would only start to break into pieces, with how I am now
If it were just with how I am now
With no courage to enjoy pointlessness
I curse everything just to have something to say
like all of the things I find weird, after all it's the honest thing to do
Because that's easier than the alternative
Losing you like I'd forgotten to lock up with my keys
wouldn't help me understand any of it.
Smile.
Even if I sacrifice my true feelings
to a pitfall that no one understands
Even if I fit myself into a box, I would just be abandoning
my self-esteem to the dimly-lit morning.
If I were to live according to script
by at times sometimes conforming
Then I'd just be nodding along without ever learning how to worry, or anything else
I would only start to break into pieces, with how I am now
I'm scared of following through with
a fate that has already been decided at every turn
Yet I do every time
Yet I want to every time
I just don't want to feel fulfilled...
Even if my true feelings are all predetermined
within a vague loop that no one understands
Even if I fit myself into a box, I would just be abandoning
my self-esteem to the dimly-lit morning.
If I were to lose myself to 'security' and 'harmlessness'
by sometimes obeying my unraveling anger
Then I'd just be nodding along without ever learning how to smile, or anything else
I would only start to break into pieces
I would only ever choose the light that never deviates, with how I am now
Even if I sacrifice my true feelings...