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It’s the early signs of disintegration. The
back and forth from a new machine. It’s been
blessed and burned into a formation by a
wish dipped in kerosene. So who’s going to
light the fuse? Who’s going to be the one to
hold high the flame because I refuse. And I’ve
just begun so don’t hold me down I’m almost
done. A lesson lived through the loss of love.
This is not a search for who’s at fault, it’s more
of a plea for hope and understanding. It’s the
side effects of adoration. The come and go
and get out clean. I’ve been cursed and freed
from dedication by a wish dipped in kerosene.

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