I take it delusions’s words are savored more, is it a sweeter pour than mine?

Tea parties with fine clinking ceramics

Yall cackle heartily at inside jokes like long-lost friends

Make references I awkwardly chuckle about, I’m lost at what the both of yall mean

Sharing childhood stories

I can tell yall have spent many a night together because it knows you intimately

Adorable, really how yall share secrets and protect your reps but never oversharing one word, real riders for sure

Yall have gone out to eat on it’s dime cause DELULU gonna make sure you’re well-fed every time

Awww yall go shopping together too?

Go to the changing rooms like cliche makeovers in movies. “Yes”ing and “No”ing as you keep going to get its approval to invest in your image

Piecing together errors and misbelief like it’s the most crisp fit anyone has ever seen.

You thinking you put that shit on when that shit puts me off

I didn’t take it that you had that type of attire

You knew those kinds of jokes

That you walk that way, talk that way

That yall knew each other that well

It must roll out its tongue of a caramel carpet often,

A complex flavor that’s smooth like saxophone solo notes of toffee and butterscotch

It knows you are a distinguished visitor, V.I.P, and it comes correct with a tailored tux to match your fly

any way to keep you coming again,

invitations and passes just to kiss your cheek and you see no wrong to it

And only you, cause it wants you alone

It doesn’t want space for someone like me to say anything to undo all the hard work it has done

Down to shapes of the tiny flying particles in the air, the dust on old windows never opened for a gust of “new” to fill the space, down to the scuffs on your shoes, the crust in your eye, the lint in your hair, down to wooden floors beneath your sole cloaked in history, squeaky hinges

It took time to falsify reality

In order to really see me

You gotta really see yourself

See where you’re really living in

It knows what makes sense for you from your past, and quilt a tapestry with nylon thread, it doesn’t want this world ripped apart

Delusion might just be the best storyteller

crotcheting trails of cross-stitched narratives,

It copies, and pastes

What was old gets recycled and repacked as something new

You unwrap this collectible and add it to your displays of all the times you thought “you knew”

Something as black and white as right and wrong, becomes grey in your grasp

But

If we could hear each other, like really hear you’d find

If you tell me your story and I’ll tell you mine

Delusion’s farewell means your breath is no longer blind