I made my body as soft as the sky
delicate, to death
pink in its hue,
rosier than the average man
and I’ve been feed for it my entire life
they don’t understand me
they don’t understand authenticity
even at times when the most authentic thing about me was doing nothing
I was always who I wanted myself to be
a beach waiter
a sea lover
and a free little life-liver
if you stare long enough into my eyes
you’ll find out they aren’t as sad as everyone makes them seem
yet no one has ever taken the time to understand them
except for three people
we giggle when our eyes meet
chuckle at nothing
and dream about everything
my monotone-ness goes away when I’m in their presence
my voice gets higher, comfortable, and at ease
and every time we’re in the car, you note the music I play and how it’s different each time we ride by the same terrains
but it’s only because change is the only thing
I could count on
to truly get me out of here
my eyes aren’t sad, I’m not sad
I just loved the things far away
and you just don't understand that
because you’ve never stared down far enough into those cardamom pupils
and if you did you’ll only find a dreamer,
not someone who’s sad—
you’ll only find a practical dreamer who dreams a lot
about who he’s meant to be for the world
and who he’s meant to be for himself
because my penis isn’t my religion
nor anything inherit could make me who I am
so I had to find myself through myself
through the things that set my soul ablaze
and I couldn’t lose my blues, I love myself
I knew myself
but life is harder for those who know themselves
so I just took it all in
and became a cardamom prince