Crazy Eight Poems

Years have passed/I’m the only one left
I got nothing to do but count my regrets
And I do not think that I’m afraid
But I feel anxious as my semblance fades
...

All these things that make me
Will bleed out from my rotting tree

Love is conceptually forlorn
...

This… Is… The final destination
For the caitiffs and the thieves
No one endures and nobody leaves
Human flesh shredding
...

Lying, bloody, before me I see
All I ever wanted you to be
Cut up and expression-less
Your pain is indeed my bliss
...

Porcelain, white
My hate, your blight
I’ll see it through
My pure ingénue
...