it’s only true
I've gotten better answers from a mute
and I'm sure a blind man can see it
Attitudes and tones make all the difference in this world filled with ruptured ear drums and finger tips that run through every grain of sand
I'm no magician, I only cut myself in half
and the instruction booklets pages were torn out
for the part that put me back together
I misplaced the thought, so I looked in the trash can, and found it next to all the wasted words and scattered body parts, half past the butterflies and broken hearts
Through the memory banks and disconnected dots, past the judgement, aesthetics and trademarks
I ended up looking at myself, and my self never walked away
