When will I know why you died
in the arms of a peon, slaving away
to get keys to your heart.
I am the master of keys, yet
I am abomination, a downfall I share
with Greek myths, heroic legends.
When will I be able to see?
After all, this is where I want to be.
Where I'm meant to be, right?
Missed the fucking deadline. Again.
So solace me, catch my tears like leaves
catch the rain as I see drops pearl off your skin.
I know that I've known all along:
You're only made of plastic.
Image from: http://pompography.deviantart.com/art/Nature-s-Cry-II-64740621
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