Save me from this battle
That I have declared
It is fierce and ******
I am trembling and scared

A knife pierces my side
An arrow reaches my heart
Please clean my wounds
Or from this life I must part

Save me from this war
This tidal wave of death
I am no longer my own ally
I'm breathing my last breath

Save me

Save me from myself

Art is opinion masquerading as truth.

When I draw a city, I am drawing the city of my dreams, just as the city that is does not exist.

Putting policy into words in the hopes of having yourself heard is not the point of the philosopher,

and should not be the end of the penman.

When I attempt to make the world see, I manufacture my enemy. We should seek instead to illuminate gracefully, to speak the words beyond the void of flesh, and to touch emotions that swim with depth

It will get us nowhere to make art political, of which it is propaganda and employed many an artist in the past;

whose dreams of good deeds became hung in a museum for all the wrong reasons, leaving a remnant of an unforseen circumstance hanging dry on an empty tour-guide phonecall

Descriptive yet lies

Argue the dialectic of truth than the present purfume of lies that is fumigated from the salivary discharge of a cetaceous yearning of ******* of thought, that leftover dream of God

That all things should be the same, that all minds should think that way-- if they were, we'd be done with the experiment.

Doyouthinkyoucansaveme?Fromwho?Me,you,reality?Doyouthinkyouhavefr­eedme?Towhat?Me,you,reality?Don’tyouseeyou’veenslavedme?Withwhat?­..............?

By the time
This is through,
I'll be
Far from you,
But not the memory
Of every single thing
You've done to me.
See, I won't be free.

Here's the deal
That is real
No matter what you say,
I bleed this very day.
Nothing's sealed.
I'm not healed.
I just don't talk about
The wounds anymore.

By the time
You are mad,
I'll be
Looking back
Won'dring if you're coming
After me to do to me
What you do to me.
See, I won't be free

Here's the deal
That is real
No matter what you say
I bleed this very day.
Nothing's sealed.
I'm not healed.
I just don't talk about
The wounds anymore.

By the time
You are through,
I'll be
Still trying to
Erase the scars of every single thing
You've done to me.
See, I won't be free.

Here's the deal
That is real
No matter what you say
I bleed this very day.
Nothing's sealed.
I'm not healed.
I just don't talk about
The wounds anymore.

You will say thank you,
for loving me like a prayer.
Because you think the only way-
someone could love you was through divine intervention.
You, a girl who is not quite yet a women.
You still think you can make men out of monsters-
That you only must show love to get it in return.
You have not yet learned
That some monsters
Have given their souls a long time ago.
That the blood that they taste on their tongue
no longer tastes like rust,
It’s what keeps them alive.
And he keeps you because
You liken him to godly-
And he hasn’t felt that kind of reverence in a long time.


- he will will take the innocent you wear like a shield and break it down until there is nothing left, not even him.

Un gato *****
Robando almas
Como sombra bajo la litera
Fuma el gato *****
Saboteador de la suerte
Y llevándote a su cama
el gato ***** te acorrala
con su cola y sus garras
no deja en paz tu alma
algo la amenaza.

Un par de aceitunas
una ofrenda de la noche
te observa, te protege,
viaja con fantasmas
el gato ***** que te vigila
cuando tus sueños
se tornan astrales.