Lies are the empty space which fills bottles to brim spilling anything of our substance.
Omissions are spots which the rust concurs our Vessel which ends up broken on the ocean floor.
Untruths are the sound of a rose whilst smelling the violins:
There are only things so finicky that scream while their mouths are sewn shut:
There are only things so bitter that look like an orange dressed lemon on a hot day:
Definitive is the green dew grass on a summer morning,
As truth is the sweetness of honey being made by the hardworking bee.
And when you sing me the things that don’t make sense I wonder if you could even read them?
But when you give me it straight than I wonder why you would ever hesitate.
There may never be another chance to give me you but there may be a day that you realize you is all I wanted.
And nothing less than exactly who you are is who you should’ve been.
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