Leave me? Déjà vû. You look at me like I'm see through But, Everything you think you see, Wasn't everything there was to me. Mom says "light a candle, burn some incense" but Mom my inner sense is the only thing stopping me from burning myself to the ground. Sorry, i can't save me now, I am aware of my heart; it opens and closes And i guess I'm an Alexi thy mic now. Besides all, My little heart is great, for the burdens it carries. Brave little heart!
Poetry is of immense appeal