The first was that I was using too many metaphors

At least that's what I told them, loud and clear

Something about sweetness tearing through my senses

Reading into objects that really mean nothing, nothing at all

Something about white lily lies turned dead-rose brown

The third was that I talked too much

"Welcome", I said, to the sweltering weirdness

They did not listen, white lily lies floating about

"Welcome", I said, "I'm kinda crazy, it a good way"

Perhaps my voice is too quiet

The fifth was that I remembered far too well

A time of rebirth and renewal

How it was tainted by approaching mist

How I welcomed this time of life and joy and flowers

How the flowers died and the joy vanished with a breath

The seventh was that I was betrayed

Watching as people cheated the trust they were gifted

In childishly wrapped presents, unwelcome

The edges torn from years of pain

The bow no longer a brilliant red breath

"Welcome" I screamed "Welcome"

Everyone turned away, whispering "not brilliant"

"Welcome" I yelled, hoping, "Welcome"

Maybe they did not hear?

"Welcome?" I questioned, "Welcome?"

The seventh was that I always ended up here, right here, here

In the desert, sweltering sweetness on my lips, "Welcome"

Welcome, welcome

What a lie, I hiss

What a lie, stupid lie, dripping from tongues like old tar

"Welcome," I grumble, insincere, "Welcome"

They never notice, self-obsessed

"Welcome," I whisper, incomplete, "Welcome"

And never do they notice, self-obsessed tar

Self-obsessed, self-obsessed, is that human nature?

The second was that I wish, I wish, I wish

Are you deaf as well, blind god?

I dream that they care, self-obsessed

And then I awaken, teary and weary

Are you blind as well, deaf god?

The fourth was that I listened, heard, and listened

Let them slip through your fingers,

I open my fingers wide

Like sand, flying away in the breeze,

As others' memoirs slip away, mine are stuck to my hands

The sixth was that I am me, me, me

Perhaps that is a sin in itself

A uniqueness shunned by sand and deserts

Memoirs are branded to my soul, unable to slip away

"Welcome" I mumbled, disbelieving, "Welcome"

Perhaps, perhaps saying "Welcome" to sweltering weirdness

Perhaps, perhaps saying "Welcome" to them

Perhaps, perhaps saying "Welcome"

Perhaps, perhaps

Saying anything at all

I did not say "Welcome" anymore

That is, until

She pulled me up by the fingertips

Shoved new hope into my fists

And grinned, eyes filled with departing ships

"Welcome" we said, "Welcome"

And everyone heard, all who ignored departing ships

If it's not tomorrow, it's today

And I'm using every sin again

The first was that I was using too many metaphors

But perhaps, perhaps

I can simply not care anymore

One through Seven, erased, I sin again

When I could say "Welcome" again

She pressed new hope into my fists

And I stopped making "why, why" lists