i ask why and he
plants flowers in my mouth,
a contrast to the graveyard theme i had going on in there,
tombstones for all the times
i've kept my curiousity
inbetween my teeth,
but now i'm biting into
thoughtful answers,
thoughtful questions
conversations that feel more
like a full course meal than
an unfulfilling snack...
i don't ask for too much,
only to be privileged enough
to pick apart your brain,
learn about your highs
and your lows,
learn about the pain,
i don't ask for too much
only to be privileged enough
to discover you as if
you were a city and i were
a tourist, camera in hand
cherishing the beauty,
the flaws, and such.
i don't ask for too much, so why
do you tell me i do, why do i
need to hold anything in, am i
too much to handle for you?
why?
- on asking why
- crimsyy
