Red and gold sunday

Your remains are like Greek Mythology

Never even saw it coming through prophecy

My philosophy,

Practice is the best foundation for a policy

But text was the best choreography

for your apology, the audacity

So much space in between conversations

A weeks worth of isolation

In rubles under the foundation

Of the home we built you wrecked

Conjuring the courage to proceed with the amputation

Leaving me no other choice

than migration

Everything you ever promised me

was phony imitation

Trapped around my family when you said to me

Sour taste in my mouth made you my enemy

All the ever after proceeded unsuccessfully

An abundance of apathy to my entity

Had me so fucked up

Even considered therapy

This commitment was a choice I made regrettably

I gotta find a way to return my integrity