Still; Moving

The flower of me isn't so real
And the world you see is just still
So, hold on to my lie

You see me
Crying, you see me
Breathing, you see me
Bleeding, you see me
Fighting, you see me
Dying, you see me
Lying to your faces

But, this truth becomes null
Under the harsh light of each person's beauty
That blasts its glow onto the body I drew to confess to you

But Is this a garden of flowers before me,
or am I going insane?
These flowers lying behind petalled personas
You think you're happy hiding your person? Nah.
Something seeming like nothing
There's no space to plant my own seed of dreams
I step through to hear the crunch of glass
Let me shatter the illusion of your transparent beauty

Me who is still threading seeds into the soil
Let me show you me who's still

Breathing life
Still in love
Endless time with a flower unseamed
Trapped behind the flower of Me

Still in pain
Tricking eyes
Untold life behind the flower frame
Lying to the flower of Me

My time
Breakthrough
Through windburns
I crack and I crack like a glass flower

My time
Fall through
Timeless waves
I shatter and scatter like a glass flower

Make me feel like hating myself
Breaking myself every night
Making me find the trajectory of my own tragedy
Making me feel like the genie of this garden
Like you're playing charades with a simulacra
Making me wonder if it's too late to hate
What if I am the porter of hell gate?
Okay, then-

This is my false fallacy,
this is my superficial, specious, safe space
and this is my iffy irony:
Illogical illuminations
in the dark where I hide; where I
bear my life, bear their pride, bear their scars
or do or die these forged feelings
Is this light all a lie?
'Cause through the thorn pricks on my skin
the afterglow creeps in-
It's only my shadow

Blood still drips, rivers flow
Heart still ticks, mirrors know
I pick; you pick
Let me say no,
Without the thought we could all be the rusting rose

Breathing life
Still in love
Endless time with a flower unseamed
Trapped behind the flower of Me

Still in pain
Tricking eyes
Untold life behind the flower frame
Lying to the flower of Me

How could you fall to this illusion of life in the frame?
My tiny flower breathing in your pains?
Born from my heart to the heart of the page
Never real but blessed with a never-ending still life

It's a blessed shame
My flower, you'll never complete your path
The keenest of eyes pass and you're still there
With no-one to reach inside your frame and pluck you out
To feel all of your ethereal beauty

No, sadly, you won't die!
You spit on that weapon, Death, who calls for my end
I'll go one day
But you'll remain
My heart will freeze beyond the cold of my facade
You, armour of an art, painted around me
Unnatural nature

Whose heart will you live in when I am gone?
Whose second life will be your second heart?

I'm still in pain
And rooted in lies
Untold death behind the flower frame
Living through the flower of Me

Though, in all these lies
Even if you can't truly grasp your senses
I have a question:

Is this still beautiful?
-No.

Am I still beautiful?

Because...

The flower of me isn't so real
And the world you see it just still
So, hold on to this truth:

YOU.