I enjoy self mutilation and narcisism, twirking with your mind, being artfully vague, quoting your vocal masterpieces for later manipulations, sewing and selling vintage clothing, being alone, walking nowhere and finding absolutely nothing, DIY fashions, writing really short children songs, darkling creatures, kissing boys who are tired and disappointed, & being a [m y s t e r y] most of all.
I'd like to meet:
the muted.
through your lips, onto mine, i remember what it was like to be devine.
all but this weakness
recalls her power.
he said I am Love.
'but please,'
i say when his lie slides to her hair,
'you're me or i am you.'
and after watching, sadly the rain, for what felt as wet days
we blow up.
falling..
sleeping..
she stares and places her arm on my crushed head.
together,
you and i ache.
sweet beauty can still bare madly and for eternity a gift.
she reads to me, and asks,
why as a part of time those boys cry?
then there are diamonds to eat my bloodless shadow with.
repulsive and whispering to leave
our drive is near winter,
over by a moon in may.
none were delirious, only your mother.
and under the water you will scream the life out of me.
a chant,
a symphony by some hot light.
sing this lust girl an ugly flood.
with your milk, a goddess must never swim.
live,
love,
let go,
have a dream of death.
somehow my feet play as if they want the easy white sky.
and so be it:
a windy stormlike vision,
frantically incubates no one blue man.
it is essential to run away-but take him
Music:
saetia & my own
i can deny you and i both the opportunity to learn.
will true black cool my hot feet..
will it shine on the two of me?
Books:
11:11, the book of lies, my journals
Heroes:
extraterrestrial guides & wanderers, true blue lovers (please find me)
11:11
..
