Lost In Eminence

Lost in eminence
~Miss A 

Aren't we meant to be together?
Givin' me all the happiness, I think I deserve.
I don't remember telling you the meaning of what CDS mean,
But I guess you know it symbolizes a Cold Distant Silence tree. 

Even while embracing the sun, which shines so witty,
I sense a deem of highlight in the flakiness drowning the sky rainy.
Cold and in meaning blue, shades that engulf me stays new,
Brightenin' lime was supposed to be my color, but my tones developed nude. 

I'm drenched in all the love, I once felt enclosed, eyes closed in the matrix,
But if I had to feel those trinkets of drop revved negative, I'd always know grey.
Once again, all refined against the CDS to the depth, naming all the bad dreams best,
I'd know me, but this time instead of staring at me from a distance, true, lost in eminence.

What I trace so immersed, is like a drop of blood crept against the fingertip, from a needle,
Bubbly and running, beautiful, vivid and enchanting, is rather a rejection of hurt, indeed peculiar.
To live like this is to waiver, a vivre, and to look at is a like a spectrum, but all white,
June is so heavy and warm, yet it gives me frostbites, trying to hide from her who's forever there.

Laid with so many sources to learn, the evidence and proofs, yet it resembles a lost cause,
Sometimes when I see you, I smile as you approach, I accept her, who I am and what I am not.
I close my eyes and I see you clearly, I dance with no rhythm, I escape the reality to find reality,
I touch you. like I'm holding the surface tension of water, but scared you'll pull me so drastically.

My dear me, you must hold your distance, the cold that resides in me, shall never surface,
It's so hard for me to push you away, mold you in a cage and cherish you still, breaks my truce.
Stay with me, stare at me, but don't become me, it's hard to portray a pale as a subject of cool,
I love it when I'm with him and you give me your soothing smile, fade as you walk away, I'm a fool.

The she is a loyal friend, it hugs you at the darkest hour, always looking after the danger that's near,
But I call you afternoon rain, since you drain my energy in the golden hours, and you make it clear.
I don't associate me as a woman with the vibe of Paris, but if you'd leave me alone, I'm very much it,
A soft hurt gaze in a pressed silk shirt and in a cape of twinkling grim, grating eminence in a rim.

Pray for me, for I can't set you free; I'm no priest that gives salvation to ghosts with no guilt,
You don't hurt me, but you don't let me be happy as well, I dwell, if you could rather help.
You are like my shadow, but you speak in my ears, hold the power to redirect my choices,
Thankyou soul sister but I'm brown skinned, what I hear and see are all demise, I preach.

The only radiation that enters my skin, it what I feel, for the past has decayed a lot of my roots,
Cruel that creep my toes are little, but enough to put me to sleep, for decades, and for hours.
I'm all dressed up to be presented to you, like a gift, filled with moths rather than butterflies,
I'm a gift, a gift of the hour, heavy on the stomach; cradling into myself like sand in a tube cries.

In the middle, I am facing a lie, a lie that tells the story of one detaching themself to stay true,
And then I found myself in two, a true me and a true self, interlocked by an impression like glue.
But whatever I look like to you, is just the image of a child, who's never moved on to face,
And I won't be doing it any soon too, better be crept than to hallucinate in the pond of lukewarm cade.

❀✿

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