The Breathing Instinct

Rejected by where I'd love to hide
No passage on vessels running blind
These lofty ideals
Turned cold and surreal

Panicked buying supplies I don't need
Hoping something will grow from the seed
Avoid all the mirrors
Reflections grow clearer

Hold on to the sun
And pray for a
Bright, clearer day
Some loving words
Don't turn around
Your eyes will get burned

The words felt clearer in my head
Why can't they remain dead
Power over me
The breathing instinct

A burden I'll carry on my own
The garden I tended and sown
Is wilted and dead
Eat last year's bread

Hold on to the sun
And pray for a
Bright, clearer day
Some loving words
Don't turn around
Your eyes will get burned