Deities

If god exists, I’d rather be left alone, my morals can’t be defined, and my hair like the waves of the Atlantic can't be refined. My sadness hasn’t been forgotten. If god is right then I'd rather be wrong. My summer days at the beach, come back as memories written in a love song. I have been ashamed of my words for a very long time, but now I don’t know what to create out of my life. I feel good after my actions, but I regret as god appears as my worst enemy. But all of this is lovely and you’re so pretty. But I can’t love you, his presence locked me in a flower. Do not try again, it’s been a long night and the sun hasn’t come back yet. You told me it’s always been there, I just have to open my eyes ! But his hands are covering my eyes, they’ve always been trying to see ! You know, I aspire to be a star, to erase my mistakes and shine when you’re wandering, looking for love. They tell me be careful, your death will come after your regrets, but I’ve been drowning in an ocean of regrets, I found myself in it, don’t you worry. Now I’m swimming, in this cold water, and I wonder if I do it right. My life has been long, and god has been dead all along so nothing is wrong, I’ll be led by my desires and I’ll die with them. It’s late, it’s time for me to disappear. But I’ll remember those days at the beach and I’ll throw myself in it before the moon, the sun, and god hit me. I wasn’t done, I’ve been drinking a lot lately, and I was wondering who could be god. It’s late and I couldn’t fly higher, my hands won’t listen to me and my heart is now writing, I’ll let it speak. I wasn’t thinking of any other possibility, being loved or love and I think, I'll let nothing happen, now you’re looking with a wondering eye. I was with myself and I talked so much I didn’t have words left, if god doesn’t exist then does someone replace it ? Or does something ? And I am under the influence but the only thing that make sense would be me, you. Gods of our own lives, we exist and create, you laugh, I write, you cry, I write. I wanna vomit, but the only thing that’d come out would be words. All this movement is making me sick, let’s just stop to think so we finally exist as gods, I guess he’s alive.