My heart's existence hangs basing its worth on an extension of your genuine kindness
Keep sending electroshocks to see a response, but my mortality paces around a white flag
Don't lie to goddesses, don't pray and claim for allegedly vast lands.
Please me and allow me to water your ground; maybe on a Tuesday morning your flaws will be cleared enough to be healed.
And my presence will only be remembered deep in your soul's corals.
If your ocean's currents hit too hard to bring me back to surface, will you recognize my name?
If the sun reflects so well through you, will I be a fever dream of yours?
© marsea