Self-doubt, it's what I do.
This music, this sound, this voice and these words.
All that carry "me", it's not writing nor music, f**,
it's certainly not "art."
When the boundaries seem unclear
we don't have a language
That day you fainted, your eyes
looked right through me, from nowhere in particular, dislocated, light, monotonous
And when I touched you
I turned you into a girl,
only for a moment,
soon you'll come back to me,
but when I touched you
I could turn you into a girl,
and I could love you wildly, girly, boundlessly.