You were simpler,
you were lighter when we thought like little kids.
Like a weightless, hateless animal,
beautifully oblivious before you were hid
inside a stranger you grew into
as you learned to disconnect.
Now he hangs your mirrors separately,
so one can't show you what the other reflects.
When he heard I was on his tail,
he emptied your account
and hid a part of you that's so invaluable,
(the part of you unsellable at any amount.)
He left the tallest peak of your paradise
buried in the bottom of a canyon in hell,
but I swear, I'll find your light in the middle,
where there’s so little— late at night,
down in the pit of the well.
Then when heaven has a line around the corner,
we shouldn’t have to wait around and hope to get in
if we can carpenter a home in our heart right now
and carve a palace from within.
We won't need to take a ton of pictures,
it won't be easy to believe
the day we wake inside a secret place that everyone can see.
