𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮

If I make my arms, the home you seek If I sway my brush, would I capture thee? If I hang your scars, in a gallery As a work of artistry May I clear your slate and wipe your conscience Lay it on another shelf I'll be anything you ever ask I'll take your memories upon myself If you keep my thoughts and thieve my wisdom I will find another shell I don't ever want to be the selfish reason You don't ever find yourself