I want a beautiful branch to land upon when I am tired flying A blue branch not a blue vein transparent Irish hungry kind of blue but blue, bleue and beautiful. I want a face to chew upon when my own face disgusts me A living face not a corpse bitch leave me now would you fuck you love you …
When you finally pause long enough to take stock When the juggernaut of chaos rolls to a gentle stop The first feelings of relief washed away by grief For your lost and wasted time. Though the tears of regret might fill a lake, You will empty, though never entirely There will be time left for you to enjoy And nothing …