In all the ways I gave you my body,
along the way I gave you my mind.
All the way I gave you my body,
my body and my mind.
My body and my mind.
My body and my mind.
Did you know they were aligned?
My body and my mind.
My body and my mind.
You can't co-curate me.
This is my frame.
I'm sick and am I free or have I been tamed?
To move my body in any way.
And if it's a temple then ask me how to pray.
In my delicate love,
I feel like you caught me in a crossfire.
Love,
I
can't trust you.
Can I trust you?
I
can't trust you.
Can I trust you?
In all the ways I gave you my body,
along the way I gave you my mind.
Devotion seeped out of me like a sickness
feverishly leading to my own demise.
I can't say I wish I never set foot in that soil.
The mycelium is teacher.
Their tales fused with my own fungal network.
Constantly surrounded.
I hate you.
I
can't trust you.
Can I trust you?
I can't trust you.
Can I trust you?
I can't trust you.
Can I trust you?