Tin Birdcage

It’s not happiness, it’s complacency 

We’re not different, we’re complimentary

It’s not love, it’s guilt and proclivity 

My heart is sometimes heavy gravitationally

It was really just that with a little dependency

Like an artificial satellite in uneasy proximity

It’s dangerous to go alone so apparently I’m crazy 

It’s more like a tin birdcage than a paradisal sanctuary 

My belief in these affections could just be a fallacy

They’re not bad intentions even when my head feels hazy

I have those high highs, it’s like a strong ecstasy 

Don’t get it twisted there are still moments of agony

My thoughts could send me into a state of emergency 

I’m not exactly sure, it’s just my goddamn chemistry

That’s what I’ve been told about myself clinically

My lights are faded in the skyline of this city 

You can’t love in the dark all that efficiently

In the end, happiness sounds excellent in theory 

And dead love is blamed on emotional diversity 

Like the wilting of lavender and beautiful cherry trees

© Niklen 1/20/22