Blessed morning shows that darkness isn’t eternal wishbone fantasies lining the wood paneled room destroying the corrupted mercenaries stabbing me in my three eyes restored rebirth resist? Wax wings melt and paper burns but I will still fly to the sun. Phases faces change like the moon her reflection love not hate and hate not love jump out the window to feel the exhileration and land in a pile of leaves the death of old and the birth of a bastard child one that I love as much as myself but not more perhaps black straps on a green bag hold secrets individual soldiers are nonexistantt as a sociable hermit leave both to the sun let them melt and let me soar anywhere anywhere be somewhere nowhere you’re not grown up to me two children playing in the sandbox lets build a castle a legacy that will never be torn down even by the cold ocean who drowns goodbye for everything is an illusion but its so real to me I jump into the fire to kiss me to live inside the burning forever get rid of the horribly real bastard the banal son of hate be I the Antichrist I’d rather that than be the Antilove blackboard mixes Taoist darklight bottles crash the sound of breaking inside is a ship let us take it and remove ourselves from it from our tables to the turntables or find refuse in a warm slice of pizza fresh from the garbage VIVA VIVA VIVA VIVAVIVAVIVA…viva.

You can’t wreck what is already broken.