(no subject)

[hey____deceiver]

There is too much or too little coating,
I am always coming or going,
by choice or force, because?
My personality seems a reason
but my experience, in ways, diverse.

The fall happens everywhere
the colors bright and pure
but when arms reach out to catch me
they're always quite unsure

About where I may be landing
or why
or how

Because my body is disconnected
can't properly discuss

But if it could, I'd let them know
I swear, I love the care
but can take care of it myself
I swear, I lie

And if I could, I'd say
don't leave me here with her

I have
this time, this place
I have already told
but no one can hear.

The whole attachment story,
reparent me so I can reparent myself
Fish me out, catch me

It is, I'd say, terminal
It's a sound
And everyone who tries

is bringing me up while pushing me down