Like a coughing and spluttering machine
At least if I could wind you up
If you were mechanical
And didn't run on batteries
Could you let me fix you
Not change you,
not alter you
Just fix you
You won't let me see what you've hidden inside
Like it was a treasure you had to protect
You won't let me close to what ripped you apart
What made you label yourself as defect
If I could wind you up
If you worked that way
Could I fix you
Would you let me
It's like you're tangled in a spiral
That no one can unwind
Like your voice is immortalized
On a tape you can't rewind
Like a lost fragment of thought
In your mind
Could I fix you
Would you let me
I already know the answer
It feels like I've already tried
Although most of my confusion
Derives from sad illusions
From melancholia
From my visions
What did I get myself into, what did you
I didn't sign up for madness, did you
I knew you weren't undamaged
But none of us really are
Does that explain anything
Do you ever feel like you need explanations
I can't pinpoint who you are or what you've been
There's a darkness inside of you
I think only I have seen
I wouldn't change you
I wouldn't alter you
Just cleanse you of the darkest darkness
Just fix you
Would you let me
my exact thoughts about Minerva.
ReplyDeleteWish they'd let us...
ReplyDeletebut on the other hand I wonder if I really could do anything, even if I was allowed to.
DeleteTrue. It's happened to me many times that you try your best to help someone, but they just won't listen. You can only try to be there for someone for so long before it drains your energy out entirely. But in this particular scenario, well... I think I could change things if I was allowed to, think I could point my friend in the right direction. But sometimes they are just too absorbed by darkness.
Delete