Prism from Prism by April Cries

Waverly waved me bye
on that fateful drive
away from once was home.
Now she’s someone else’s,
and I’m left here helpless
with memories I’ll never know.

You sure are something, but you ain’t mine.
You sure are something, but what am I?
Oh, what have I become?

If you look at me right,
there are colors even I
have never seen before.
I’m still tryna find the angle.
It’s just a trick of the light,
but it still takes acquired eyes
to see I’m something more.
I’m still tryna find the angle.

Avalon, kiss me slow,
‘cause I never know
if you’ll stop loving me.
Our children deserted,
and I am still hurtin’.
Keep the change. I want it free.

Don’t throw me, I’m fragile.
Don’t hold me, I’m frazzled.
I want the world of my own kind.
It’s warped and whimsical.
If mental were physical,
I’d like the way my book is binded.

If you look at me right,
there are demons even I
have never seen before.
I think I found the angle.

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