Split.

Split from me!
No…
Stay with me!
Don’t go…
Split from me!
No…
Stay with me!
Don’t go…
I just wanted you,
To know;
That I love you so…
Different side of me,
That I never thought,
I’d show, whoa…
……
…… (Dustin)
Split two tears from different ducts,
Despicable display of dedication,
Delegated like a democracy of dictator hugs…
And kisses… kiss, kiss,
Like Paul Stanley just licked,
Gene Simmons across Mic Jagger lips,
Rolling stone missed,
While papa is still looking for us,
Like we lost a loss a lot,
But somehow won,
With two cents given par none,
Without making a wish,
We remember blowing on those cakes,
Candles with flamed mistakes,
Want for nothing and deserved great,
Nah, Nah, Nah,
We don’t want a little piece,
We want an entire plate!
Maybe some ice cream,
We feel so happy on our birthday,
We can rub it in our face.
What metaphorical sense is there to be made?
I refuse to allow these things in my brain,
To make me feel like a slave.
……
…… (Explicit)
With a conflict,
Of energies aside.
Open & exposed,
I left my;
Dangerous mind,
Opened wide.
Double edged sword,
Of;
My pitiful pride,
Crocodile tears fall,
From these vacant eyes.
I’m split far between,
Euphoric highs,
&;
The horrors I hide,
Deep inside…

— (Dustin)
I’ve adopted fostered thoughts,
Buried all that we’ve got,
Two feet down with ten toes up,
Arms openly crossed,
Mind outside the box,
We see the dirt,
A planted seed,
Time to harvest crops,
Food for God,
Pot cooked top,
Dome tipped off,
Head cute without the “e,”
Screwed back on,
Loose news flew,
Through our tunnels point of view,
Tight tied knots,
Hang lines like a noose,
By our shoes,
Tongues flipped and pulled,
By the hand of words,
Freely choose…
Wait…
Now we’re confused…
This entire life,
I thought I was talking to me,
When really…
You was talking to you…
……
…… (Explicit)
Split from me!
No…
Stay with me!
Don’t go…
Split from me!
No…
Stay with me!
Don’t go…
I just wanted you,
To know;
That I love you so…
Different side of me,
That I never thought,
I’d show, whoa…



You are my shield,
Protect me because,
I am fragile.
You are my exterior,
Hold me; Entrap me,
In your castle.
Help me; Guide me,
Through;
For I do not know,
What the hell I;
Could possibly do,
Think;
I’m falling apart.
Gorilla glue,
Piecing together,
What had once built,
My temple of silence,
&;
Harmonious solitude,
That I had grown to love,
For much too long,
After all;
Deathbeds were meant,
To be comfortable,
Isn’t that how one can,
Rest in peace?
& are we truly alive if,
We’re mimicking,
Motions of the deceased?
The answer is indefinite,
But;
I have a sinking feeling that,
It bares some form of truth, indeed.

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