Blood is sweet when you cut yourself with sharp or blunt. Babies are from a penis or an imagination: I killed mine twice, I have seen death thrice.
We are deaths in different clothes, I should have a folder on sex, pains, regrets and celibacy of prayers and changes, looks and wailing.
White wires is a lie! I want domination. I sat on my dads bed seventeen years later and Cried into the night, maybe if I had a dad I wouldn’t have a baby and kill it.
I’m a walking corpse, I wish I can touch you again, tell you my fears and dreams, of how I have failed, I want deepness that is why I wail, I hope you connect with this tears or maybe I should wait.
I want to tell you my worst of how I have had it rough. Mom was always there but she was not enough. I stole and masturbated, fell and resurrected, I am too strong for what I’m made of, Im scared too, that I will break.
My tissues are filled with tears that still drips down my chest, I’m afraid of fear, that I will one day disappoint myself and die of too many promises unfulfilled.
You loved green, I hated it because it tells me of hope, there is no such thing as hope; Just pushes and cautions.
My tears will not dry soon, I need an uber or some cassava, I want to eat plantain chips while I urinate on my bed, perhaps jump in a pool and float to death.
I met a girl and gave her a ring, hope maybe, I hate to have hope, a type of concern that something may or may not happen, love Can’t be measured, more reasons I have no regard for it, how come I know a person loves me enough?
She seems to be interested in me, I see no reason to pretend to her, we are all gods.
She told me of all the crazy things she will do to me, of love and laughter, grey and darker glooms of unending interceptions, she is shy and a virgin, I’m bold and wild, hope this story has a comic relief at least.
One puff of smokes will clear the anger, masturbating will cure the hunger, but me and you will lie and masturbate to oblivion.