Self-righteous was my sadness
my resistance, the denial
and the darkness
Self bewilderment was your chasing
...
Caterpillars
they have potentials
they have perspectives
they have dreams
...
Thoughts of consumed steadiness
anger floats through reflections of Irene
but for crystallized birth
we choke the bellyache
...
Dear lord, I thought red fire grew only from the hands of the cold
alone and poor
between hands that lost their soul
but they rubbed my thoughts
...
My life is in danger
Myself is in danger
as I cut the small pieces
tiny failed autonomies
...
Not everyone can get
the things running down on your little head
not every single person can see
the things twirling on your twisted head
...
I feel sorry
for hiding myself behind you
behind this cut
because for the demons that I feed inside, is not enough
...
THEY WILL COME
They will come to demystify us
so plainly willing to defy our future collapse
they will slowly plant triggers on our garden flowers
...