Jesus, I be lifted higher
Higher, higher
Be lifted higher
Even though we are not the same
Different ways
And we walk on different path
Different road
I just copied that from somewhere
But it matches
With the notes
And be as one
Holding each other's hand in gratitude
Jesus, my arm is not that long
My mind is not that strong
I still have a picture of you on my phone
At night I delete it
The morning after I find you again
It is the lost children's song, it has no end
I can't hear you when I practice on bath
I can't feel you when the water fills me up
Magdalene would not come
It is Natalia
It is Natalia
Now you know who you are
Pictures of daisies on the front page
The blond, long hair
Ensnare my neck, my legs, even the chest
Heart not beating, it is quiet
Is it a candle or a sun? It just burns
The dark is casted away
But you say, dim the light because it helps
How could I not be your migraine?
Different gem pierced on your heart forever
Not really forever, just feels like it
The wounds never be healed
Seven lied that I would make a good healer
These hands are full of barb wire
Colored red of the blood or is it just corroded-
I dare not touch, I dare not move
It would hurt,
it would hurt not you, don't you think I care
Like the sword it is two edged
I need to sharpen my teeth for
the most I could do is biting my thigh
I am a baby trapped in the physique of an adolescent
I don't know I must praise you
And that it's you who is being lifted higher
My ****** friend says
There are a dozen or
two; At two I remember you
Still waiting at that cafe?
It is not me whom you are waiting for
I shouldn't have waited for seventeen years to come
It could have been a coincidence
It could have been real
It could
Not
Be possible and cannot ever be
We do not have the bridge
Ran out of concrete
It reminds me of Tanabata
The kind of one sided Tanabata
Today when I see the stars
I would cry

you, again
my name on the sand
my name, my life, just the same

you, again, the ocean
you be the beach i gave myself to
you be the tides that erase me quite

you, again, my earth-shaker
my alphabets remain nothing
my story crumbled by the wind

Through holes spotted on my veins you sound like a mad river, telling me only the things I can never accept, shoving your voice down, ripping, crushing my fragile tympani into a freezing blood rain. Hey, here's your umbrella, the same as all those black parachutes bloomed on the day your father had married for the second time, leaving you and your mother assuming he was dead, and yes, he was. He was dead in your heart with all your unforgiveness disguised as a strangely unconditional love, just like one of your old shirts your mother had sewed for you now hanging in front of your beautiful neck, tied into a noose, a fascinating noose I would like to die for.

I am singing you a song of the ringing dawn, a kind of song which probably would only be played on the last day of earth when there would be no regret waiting, a kind of song which would be forgotten forever after its first note; no more swaying on the edge of the cliff, no more waiting to be pushed down, no more begging for the oven to be turned on.

I want ocean, and there you are out of my reach.

I remember somewhere
in the depth of your lake-like eyes:
fresh ropes, high places, warm walls.

Everything I've tried to recall
from the comfy, tender-looking voice
still floating like clouds below the scorching sun.

I imagine so: you
are more than a metaphor of poetry,
more than a life in your body, you

are a son lost in your own prophecy.
I now know how a mother must feel,
how a mother must feel about the fruit of the womb.

These blue-green petals of your existence
softly wrapping my fingers and sloppy neck;
it is almost as if my skin is precious.

You'll look at me as
If you've seen a ghost
And I'll stare at you just
Like the same as ever

i smell like diet pills i might've
gone to therapy and lie, she said
i was doing great. everyone says that
but my parents   are me. i'd rather
chug mcdonald's cola and forget
the taste of *****. i miss
my parking lot. i miss
staining the car seat

my father says i am going bald
i say you haven't seen the most of it

let's see how this turns out
i dissociate my way
to the future. no one knows why
i'm crying. no one knows i'm crying
i can't stuff a vacuum
i can't let bleed a dried out
i can't breathe  my mouth is bad

who knows there are things
worse than suicide -- i do
and i'm doing it
because no one is letting me die
everyone is so ******* selfish
why can't i be?
my life has gotten significantly worse
since eight years ago
the thoughts of killing myself
has always been my only solace

i'm so sorry that you don't matter
nothing you say or do
would ever soothe me
you can stop me
truth is, you're the one who stop me
over  and over
again. what atrocity
to drag one no longer fit for living
hope  isn't a morphine
it's just a playground
for adults who had unhappy
childhood

the world is spinning
footsteps
people keep breeding
making money, spending
getting a job, dressing up for the boss
trying not to get *****, get ***** anyway
losing weight, gaining a tenfold
changing mirrors
dropping out of school
never leaving home
trying to escape the hands
always got caught by the eye
the walls are covered with ears
there's nowhere to run to
i'll always be found out
as if i did a some kind of grave crime

Away from my lungs I think it's good
that I haven't cried in front of my mom
and have had no time to shed tears for men.
Away from alveoli my blood just can't
take me anymore I breathe and it feels
different from what it's supposed to be.
I remember about everything and decide
to close it forever away from words and images
I think it's good that I can't talk anymore.
This throat is happy enough I'm not
trying to spoil the joy but I want truth
and at the same time lies.
Away from memories and thoughts I think
this is better than drowning even though
I used to be a deep sea creature.

lover, you were seen
in the dark, galloping
toward an ending

lover, you and i
were a parrot, in the future
are AI. these lives
spiraling

down
down the consciousness
up the skies, i've seen blue
you might say, lover i've
seen it all

Mama, I do not want to eat
and I don't want you to know it.

I am glad you do so well without me
but too bad, fears aren't what stay like rocks.
They breathe like fire and grow like children.
I lost them once and they never come back,
o my poor lost children I still love them!

Mama, I just took a proper shower.
I know I should not be so proud, but
the water was black and so cold and the soap and shampoo were mocking my filthy skin.
I was strong. I am strong.
I am glad you do so well without me.

I was Mother Mary once, you did not know it.
You have lots of grandchildren but I lost all of them so I cannot show you how they have grown like haunted trees and abandoned churches.
You taught me motherly love, Mama,
not how to prove it.

I became a garden but the minerals kept falling from
the pores and eyes. I could not be good soil.
The hibiscus and jasmine and frangipani I wanted to grow
are now as dead and confused as my chest.

My head is one native tomb.
How could I not find a name?

I am doing very well, Mama.

Just that I kept thinking I am at home.

I sleep at night just like everybody else,
only rougher, harsher, harder
than average. Nothing special
about thinking every night is the last
just so you can fall asleep.
No matter what, morning always comes
the same
for all people.

I meet and talk to people just like
everybody else. Only that I
stumble at my heart, bleed all the time inside.
I keep crying in all the wrong ways,
keep abusing my voice,
can't tell anymore what's incorrect.
So nothing to fix, nothing to be curious about,

there's no question in the first place, only
if
waving is
the
way to
say
goodbye,
would you
consider
me
as the
ocean?

*
1. i shall put an end
2. to a tooth, two teeth
3. jeweled with pink
4.
5. a mouth is no more
6. than another tunnel
7.
8. the tongue is relaxed
9. and dry
0. go on, bite
1. as pain greets
2. and lives

Leak
Hear the toilet cries
Escape from her, the heart knows
But the ship has sunk

Whirlpool
Choked with saltwater
Corrosives in tropic lungs
Breathe the sun, be fine

Float**
Ice cream on soda
We were born waterlilies
Can we swim? Can we?

look at my back
watch me as i try to walk
notice how i hardly move

how i have to painfully drag my feet
share the ground the blisters as a secret


look at my back
how i carry my bones
how i silent the creaks

the breaking sounds, the irony smells
now i let them out


look at my back
watch me as i leave the room
listen as i slam the door

unhear the voices
unsmell the scents


look at my back
for the first, the last time
watch me as i hope for the best

my back soon glued inside
an open casket

i.

you wore a summer high school shirt,
with your arm poured at my skin like milk;
back then cereals were all i could long for.

i hoped for some electricity,
but the night was too strong to be lit;
mildly frustrated light turned into heat.

darkness had become a nice home,
where all the weirdness collided
like cotton candy and a starstruck heart.

you spoke, as the sky fell,
with your lips swollen like honey;
that was the time i found moonlight.

survivor is the romanticized side
of everything
because it gets better
but often gets far worse

& until we are the number
& we become the percentages
3 out of 100 vulnerable
to mental disorders

marital rapes & ****** &
****** abuses
we've tried to cry
but lullabies far louder

is this liquid? i ask
myself because there's no one else
in this room i fall in love with indulgences
never falling out again
i'm a loyal lover of unhealthy desires
if you can call it desire
then i can call myself a lover
of anything that goes through my throat
in and out, in and out
i ask, is this liquid? the bed sheet
is white, translucent at the part
where i lay myself
dry

gentle air, so soft
every move makes
a mark, hidden

from the sight
rare darkness
silence-enveloped

house, a distinction
sound, each wave
is moon-pulled

Bugs bitten skin deep soul
[I slept on lot of empty plastic bottles]
Salted eyeballs, a chopstick
Two, they always asked for two
[Stamped]
White chalks, bitter coughs
Childhood! Roses and a caterpillar
I had taught myself not to cry
Grown like gecko, became huge as *** of fears
Empty cocoon
Music box, grandmother, her smile and mole
[Nice pass, basketball]
Please turn off the lights and lock the window
[Too fat, though]
I wondered what more I could ask for
How perfect, monochrome
I was born, the world
[Moths are beautiful too]
Hey hey oily feathers
Butterflies cannot fly too high after all
It was never battle scars the ocean loved
[Eyeballs, remember eyeballs]
Forked
Babies and the steps
Climb your stairs, lungless
[Eyes were the most burned]
Chest, o Christmas tree and wedding cake
Claps, stories of mockery
Photographs, memories, what stays and fades
[The bridge saw you and fell in love--
I was crossing it
I was crossing it]

charmless
and the fingers you used to glorify
god
the girl too pure she has nothing to do with sin-
you keep your ****** tight
****** of a moth
it rained light
senseless
and the poets who wear bright yellow coats
exploited
her head hurts when she reads the papers
'don't make me black and white'
****** of a toad
tires and holey road
bricks and cinnamon
****** mocha (a coffee shop)
frightless
a battlefield so full of itself
grand humiliation of oneself
hundreds of bravas, bunch of roses-
venomous thorns
powerless

Get me out
of this pool
of pain and loneliness
I made up
a place as tight as my chest
with walls as high as the sky
I forgot how to swim
and water keeps filling my lungs
I forgot how to get up
drowning in the shallow water
thinking of a lifesaver
I made up
my own muscles and joints
my own breathing
I made up the pool. The swimmer
Get me out

I'm gonna puke
on the mirror
or on the street puddle
or if I could, on my own frigging eyes.

All that reflects.
I'm gonna puke
on the atmosphere
or on the clear window
or if I could, on my own foul heart.

Why isn't it raining hard?
The clouds
aren't afraid of me?
On them I'm also gonna puke.

a flower came from your mouth
i ate it without permission. sorry
my body becomes the evidence
that i will hide forever. you were soft
i wish i broke you

your flower died when i munched it
sour, moist, bitter, a bit salty
my tongue & my eyes
both teary and red

help me. i have been poisoned
by my own goodwill

i just wanted to taste the soft petals
why should it come with thorns, my own
blood, despair, defeat
death you don't care about
who are we against? i don't remember

does that make me the murdered or the murderer
if no one dies at this scene
who will come to my funeral
who will regret not idealizing me a little longer
does any of this ever make you sane?

i almost had it. freedom
turns out my sanity
isn't even worth that much
remind me again why i am here
remind me again why i am here
remind me again why i am here
remind me again why
i am here

We are lost, you know,
And the wind isn't looking for
Us anymore. She is busy
Blowing the skirts of young
Ladies. How we used to be,
Red and bright, boiled soft,
Warm, our feet were never
Cold, our fingers
Where the flowers
Bloomed. We lost, you know,
They never come to
Us anymore. They prefer
Good soil and a gardener.

We had these things we
Thought we would end
Up hating. We are lost, you know,
Now we want to go back,
Under the blanket, under
The bed,
Under the feet of gods,
Heavy sky on our chest,
Sharp rain on
Our head,
They are not so bad compared
To our teeth.

The wind doesn't reach
Our home anymore.
We aren't there, maybe
That's why. Why
Isn't she looking for us?
Maybe the earth does
Not love
Her enough. We are lost, you know, not
That we wander. Maybe
We are just too forgetful, maybe
We can't have ice anymore, maybe
From now on we have to eat rocks, maybe
Our lungs
Cannot keep looking pink, maybe
The kidneys only want more, more,
More, more, more. Please
Be careful when you drive.
It's not my fault
If we crash. I can replace our
Lungs with a cloud, it
Would hurt a little, but please endure,
We are never going back, the
Time doesn't go back, neither do
We, so please endure,
None of us really ticks.
It's all human-made.

We are lost, you know,
And the road too, now
The cars are confused,
They learn to swim
But seawater makes them
Weak. But we
Lost, you know. The
Wind isn't looking for
Us anymore. She is busy
Blowing the skirts of young
Ladies. How we used to be,
Red and bright, letting out
Healthy cries, only
That we didn't sleep at all.

Feeling like dying is so much like touching a girl's chest for the first time --- I tremble and don't know how to stop; I do not breathe but my lungs are doing fine.

When my hair was long, people told me to cut it. Now my hair is short, people are telling me to never have short hairstyle ever again.

I am too heavy I cannot be in high places. They cannot hold me. They would collapse. I am too heavy I cannot even move my legs. My feet are planted to the ground. I may well be a high place.

But buried alive I am.

I do not breathe but my lungs are doing fine. I cannot swim anymore. I do not have hands anymore. My stomach is a pool full of HCl. My stomach is tomatoes stomped by muddy boots. My stomach too large I do not wear it anymore.

In the morning I don't think of dying anymore. I do not think of it anymore. I am actually doing it. The dying thing.

I have wings like bats, I eat rats like bats. When I have no money in my wallet I can't sell myself because no one wants to buy me. I have legs like snakes, I eat rats like snakes. In a night like this I only want to be a tiny sea creature. It would be cold enough. It would be salty enough. It wouldn't be beautiful. Nothing beautiful fits to be perfect. I want perfect. I want flawless.

Good bye. I can't see you again. Someday when I hear your name it would always be the first time. Please just let me. Go.

1 a.m.
"sylvia plath aesthetics" on google search
overwhelmed by the pages excerpts
click a link
close the tabs
tosca curtains
tv sound
smoking brothers
polka dot pajamas matching the face
wonder if the mirror would break today
religious villa
wide glass windows not high enough
useless hills
some are sleeping
shy ghosts
panic attacks
catch breath like solar cells
sunless
penniless
nostalgic sourness
hydrogen chloride solution in water
stomachache
period 4 days late
muscle spasms
skeletal recreation
fireworks
involuntary flow of old stale traumas
haven the escapee
banana diet and menopause
blank tombstone: a perfect biography

when the throat is dry
it goes all the way to the brain
and when it shrinks it disrupts
the skull and the muscles
so i'd rather have my neck
cut off, my head plucked off

but why do i feel like
my guts will come off too?
probably for the better
if it's physically empty
we don't have to worry what to fill it with
(grapes and white bread
doesn't fill as good)

i should probably sleep
in my sleep chopping my hair off
sorry
if all i think about is sharp objects
i don't know, perhaps
i'm just worried
the scars won't fade

(missing)
even the best memories fade
what is this, birthmark?
i want to get my heart done
please, make it stop

I almost thought that I was screaming but at least it should have been a safer place. I let my face seem like pig but my chest kept thinking that I was just having a sun diameter long run. It is true that my shirt smells like sweat but it was just delivered by my sweet but not tasty laundry aunt. I am sitting here, in front of me is the library. I try to respect my hunger by just admiring the stairs and thigh thick books from afar.

On the right side there are my schoolmates pretending to be a friend with this one gay guy, invisibly bullying but who cannot see it? I can feel insecurity bawling out of his nostrils and it fills the air with an intense reeking of headache and street lights sold cheap perfume. I think I should go back to my place and wash my hair until it smells like grass or something nice, like seawater or grandma's handkerchief.

I must pretend to be insane or else I am going to spend my life seeking for the top I do not want to step on.

There is no safe place at all. This is the safest I could find, but there are voices of people chatting and laughing and the smokes of their cigarettes and the sound of airplane and footsteps and life, and life, I even can hear the leaves beside me photosynthesizing. Send me home already.

On Wednesday my roommate does not have class and that means if I go back now I would find her sleeping on the desk with her eyeglasses on, or worse, I think I would find her studying her latin names of the animal bones and when I open the door she would greet me with her usual green smile and I would have to reply with at least half of her smile and now I already feel the balloon in my chest hugged too tightly by the ribs.

I should have taken another major instead. Maybe something like agriculture so I at least could be a use for the soil or to feed the worms. The people passing by seem to be looking through my skin. It's not my fault that they have to run to the toilet as fast as they can. At first I thought the sport festival was here. It was perfectly normal for them to be so much competitive.

The flushes sound exactly like this one neuron I got, or these split ends that have split ends that have split ends.

I am the only one inanimate here. My shoes speak German and I think they just want to go to an elegantly candlelit restaurant but all I can think of is a cave with blue and green mosses and cavemen with their torches. Only this square, blue thing with blinding pink font in my gray backpack tries to keep me safe. But I let it stay in the dark, and it was a right decision because I would not know what I would be if I had felt safe when a friend greeted me and asked what I was doing here.

I am a red poult
Fell from a height

I don't know how to fly
I don't know how to survive

Eaten alive by group of ants
I don't know it's called dying

It's ended by a girl's pity
That pretty red shoe stomped me to death

You wish
You were broken so
You could be fixed. But sadly
You are enough.
You are so enough and strong and beautiful and
You shouldn't feel so bad about yourself.

you saw me
scattered
on the ground.

between
my pieces
were cheerful puddles

of the rain from your face
& the soap i used to
wash

my mouth.
i sweat a lot &
it's still so cold.

sometimes the teeth
aren't helping us much
to say the unvoiced-

to
untangle the tongue
from

what we don't
sincerely
want.

I hold my breath
I stop my heart
I make it all up

I am lazy, not sick
I've never been in an emergency
I make it all up

I derive it all from the media
All the things I've read and watched
Huge inspiration

I try dark, it is cool
I try blade, it is sharp
So hip, I am not insane

I am bad at driving, not reckless
Some nights I try to be good and stay
Inside a plastic bag, pills down with soda

please
invite me
to the nearest
public bathroom
where it smells like
when you put your hand
on my right cheek
and we
kissed
and kissed
and kissed
with our mcdonald's
tongues

boy you were
literally
everything i
needed

i could go on
forever
until you made
vomitting sound
which i
didn't

it was dawn
we were warm
you left me
but you were the one
who cried

All smiles are rotten now.
Were it only broken, we could save them.
The barren faces, they do no justice.

Confused souls entail confused bodies.
Wicked brains, are they just lazy?
Were they, imbalances would be irrelevant.

Shocking made up stories, unless we tell you the truth.
Just some false memories we strongly believe.
Grosser than anything else.

It's so common, rejection and abandonment.
Bravely we hide the words from voices.
Courageous children in adult form.

I need a good cry but
you don't want to see me cry.
You never understand what it is to cry.

The social world, the so-called maturity,
I don't know, if I learn to pretend,
would I still be able to be sincere?

The freshness of youth
hits my face like sweet sea tides.
Wake up, girl! Just be younger today.
Your dying soul -- it is not rotten
yet.

We do not have summer nor winter,
girl, you decide your own season.

Eat well, sleep enough, brush your teeth, wash your hair, go to shower!
And clean laundry, honeybee, as important as cheery selfie.

Small thing by small thing,
I know you can do it.
Never again let your books cry at night, pretty.
Read them, all of them.

Go to school
to make friends.
Do your silly homeworks.
Don't listen to your teachers,
just read. Read your books,
read them, all of them.
Don't change major. You know where you
are
going to.

Small thing by
small thing. Easy! You are bigger than those
small things.

Your time being old is over,
daisy, now you may
be
young
forever.

It was a different kind of aching
An aim blurring itself, left me sweating
Do you know where the firefighters went?
It all began in 1911
But that's the most I do know

Splitting images had never been my expertise
Remembering faces, I whirled as I had greedy desires of touching many different flames
Meet me again in the heart of the forest, would you?
You wouldn't, you wouldn't, you wouldn't
Said like a mantra but I had stopped believe in Gods since a long, long time ago
It was when we first met
When you became the only God I acknowledge

I started a cult and it's all about you
But I am not much different
From when I thought Jesus could have had saved me but actually couldn't
So I eventually left Him, so I left Him
I left Him like it was just an ordinary different kind of aching

waters, i found salt
liquid, running through
i can meet you here
i guess
i shouted you goodbye
diving my way to the bed
i shouted you goodbye
soaking my lungs in tides

ocean, i like swimming
biting stream, harmless
bloat my body here
i become one
with loneliness
skinship me like no one else
peeling the skin
of the earth

body, this is me
did you call? now i am here
body, this is me
i've watched you for some time
i've observed and taken notes
i've hated you, body
i've accepted you
i've blamed you

i shouted you goodbye
silly
all you did
dragging me back
i shouted you goodbye
silly
i've loved you, body
only you confuse me at times

did you hear?
you only listened
to the ears
what did you say about me?
i was not worth
the cubicle
so you hid me
in a cabinet

when it's dark i can light a
candle & drink the wax
with the can of my first beer,
how stupid didn't i realize
it was your mouth all along.

when it's night i can wish
upon a shooting star & bury the
remaining flame in
my neck, like how you
did with your breath.

let me hold your hands, taste your lips
one last time. press your body
against mine, one last time.
dig me like a child
even if it hurts, or feels gross.

am i too heavy, am i trying to
pole dance on a mcdonald's straw?
i shouldn't have gone away
even if you'd told me to,
i should've clung to you oh

even more, even more.

Tonight i can't write any sad poem, let alone the saddest one. But, typing this makes me realize, how sad this font is. Oh, Eliot, why did you? It looks like it needs a warm hug despite its fear of touch. Oh, oh my, you didn't know it is scared of being touched? It never told you? How insensitive of you. It has told you all, but you refused to listen to the silences. Ah. Why at times like this i remember Dave Pelzer.

I once read a story about this boy. No, not Dave Pelzer. I don't remember his name. But i remember him. He didn't like to be touched. His dad respected it and didn't ever hug him. Instead they spread their fingers out in a fan and connected them to show their love. Slight touch was okay. And enough. The boy knew he was loved.

Um, so, you know, i couldn't find this font's fingers. Can you please tell it that it is loved?

But. But this font is too sad. It will not believe you. Not now. Not later. Not ever. Knowing this makes me sad. But i can't write it out. I am not Pablo Neruda. Tonight i just can't write any poem, let alone a sad one, let alone the saddest one.

Let this font speak it all.

Your pretty long hair
and splat of red on your right
cheek
You were God once;
Now you can't be tamed

You prudently hid your neck
to prevent jealousy ---
You danced wilder,
wilder than her; that Isadora
But no mother lets her daughter
stand so lonely
wild so uncontrollably

The long, long scarf
Keeps making legendary
blue and red and black
and black;
And black and back to blue
again
and red and black ---
The show
went on;
It still goes on.

v.

My short black hair
would soon grow
long. In times like
this I do not want to
remember you.

pull me quite, don't be polite
rest me on your palms, deathbed,
a plate that is also a mouth
your tongue my waterslide
i want to melt into your core

my knees
swell. my kidneys
fail. i used to
brush my
hair find
tangles, now i just
let them
break. i let them
break
if only my father
is here he will say
no. he won't say
anything i
can imagine. i can't
be
i can't
be.
i don't know how to
talk. the
ability has left
my vocal fold, it has
gone to somewhere better
not here. it has gone
to the place
it's recognized where
it's heard
not here.
not here. my knees
swell i am oversized
in a small present
box for
pranks. pranks. pranks.
i get bored
bored bored boring.

when i look at my profile picture on social media

i know what ugly
looks like, at least better than
this disgusting face

that's why i never use my own face for more than 2 days

it isn't my fault
that i am repulsed by my
own body and mind

what else do you expect?

i am a sinner;
this is how i should be, how
i atone my crimes

i have an appearance matching my very soul**

it is written all
over my skin, ev'ry sin
and condemnation

Maybe poetry blog is more than just words and poetry and crafts and feelings. Maybe poetry blog doesn't even ever exist in this world. I struggle to write without typos and they keep coming back, coming back, coming back even though I've erased them to correct them. Everyone knows I do it out of love, so tremendeous yet tender and warm. The only thing we should never mention to public is that actually love is a bit slimy and disgusting and sometimes it reeks of three months old ocean water kept in a pink vacuum seal container.
I think I haven't really talk so much to forget the purpose why we are here. Why I try so hard to write this **** and why you soften your own heart just so you can survive reading trash in the face of words, trampled ideas, smashed soul it is actually pearl necklace and the beads are scattered completely gone just two left but I shall use it for my eyeballs. Or do you want? I can give it to you for free if you want these two beads of pearl inside your eye. It's not gonna be painful but you'll just learn about how to see without looking. If you're not satisfied, I can open your third eye, but only if you have it that is.
Hey, aren't you forgetting the reason we are all here? I think most of us now have forgotten about pretty much everything else, so, let me guess what we're going to do after this. Maybe we can go to somewhere without electricity and light bunch of candles. Some of us can read the bible aloud, dramatic, however they want. Some of us can play rope or ******* or such thing. Some of us can just wake up the sleeping world. There should not be sleep today. Sleeping is irrelevant nowadays. It's banned from now on. It's ok if you've gulped your sleeping pills, because it's always either not enough or too much. Either way the result isn't actually sleep. Once again, sleeping is banned from now on. This is where you choose, earthling. The fate is yours and all yours.

mister, i have to say this
not to your face, just to get out
what was a medicine
now a poison

it's the longing, mister
that you fake, that i accept
because everytime we try to touch
we both disappear to each other

don't you notice?
you've been alive way longer
than me, mister

just
this is where i **** up:
i thought you were perfect

I am scattering
like light, like dandelions
minus glimpse of hope.

my entrail doesn't speak
she's the quietest in my body
some say i'm just too shy
some didn't know what was just happening

my stomach sharp and confused
when i ******* own i taste sour
some say i'm just a little bit ill
some doesn't know what has been happening

when i'm weak i can buy junk food all i want
i can walk in the streets and face the boys in the stalls
still, my entrail doesn't speak
she's the quietest in my body

so forget the sweat, forget the spit
i'm saving my eyes for the street
i'm harming my earth for my heart
i feel the most calm when i drive fast

my eyes become a black hole as i speed
i swallow traffic accidents like religious scientist
across my window a drive thru fast-food restaurant
my entrail doesn't speak

she's the quietest in my body
my eyes become a black hole as i speed
to a secret cult i must be guided
i swallow traffic accidents like religious scientist

where
where is a friend in distress of mine?
so many people. none to love.
a body is unnecessary
don't you think? skin, flesh, bone are
too far a distance
so many interactions. none to connect to.
why would i isolate myself? that
just comes as natural
as a textbook

I didn't know it is really possible
To laugh and cry at the same time
Without an exact cause

I think I am insane
But he told me I am not
But he didn't really know what
We were talking about

It was about me and me and me
How many me's?
I will count it later like the stars not the stairs
Fail and fail oh I can't even turn the lights on

The water tastes funny
The world is so funny today
Today is the right day to
**** all the catcallers in the universe or
Just ask God to dance something
(Don't you think that Heaven has its own traditional dance too?)
Or we can watch a grand, glorious
Dance battle
Between Michael and Lucifer
Then watch Maria and Joseph slow dance;
It would be fun
Trust me
And the best of all
We won't run out of good wine
(Yo, Jesus!)

Oh, I can't believe you!
Why don't you laugh?
I can't believe you are
Not laughing
You don't even cry! How boring;
How boring --
The heaven would get mad
So mad, so mad like Sylvia
Or Khadīja or Rebekah
Or don't ask me who they are!
Do you even really know who you are?

I think I am insane
There was a time when I am
Really sure that I am, but
Then I learnt that truth was not that simple --

He said, just like him, I think too much

What do I think?
I think I am insane
But he told me I am not
But he didn't really know what
We were talking about