Glitter Is Made of Plastic

The tracks won't break The tracks won't break Soft fingertips are not the correct tool for the job; Bleed quickly, nails peel back, ineffectual When the dark comes, will our sparks converge or sputter out - blind in the absence of illuminating amalgam? Beyond the steel lines, the air is ink One cannot swim, cannot see One can only drown... Afraid, weak Hold on to each other Take my hand Coalesce