Follow me to redemption,
I will not judge or mention
My quiet subtle obsession
But, here is my confession:
When you wear
Your hair like that,
Natural in the sun
I justly stare at those tats
That bloom and come undone.
Tell me a story about your You
And tell it with affection.
I’ll listen and when the time is through,
You’ll see your resurrection.
No more misconceptions.
For it is not my intention
To push you in the wrong direction.
Lay with me in sweet oblivion.
We can end the sentence.
Misunderstood InSaNiTy 