I’ 12 and I’m very depressed
love fantasy
jesus
pills
creating an altar
but my sister is not into religion
orange carpet
and I
loneliness
almost masculine
harsh
the imagination
of the catholic church
is rigid
i need more spring
more spring flowers and water
but not to holy mary
this men in white gowns must be very sad
priests
boys in entrapment
I started thinking that ‘love’ is evil
vengeful
it’s hate
it’s murderous
so I’ll forget this whole business
and go
to meet
Karakoram mountains instead
or something like that
for a while
before I get back to dreadful London
to deal with all this deathly business
of
flowers
It was a bitter trial
I don’t know how many steps I still need to take to step out of the chaos
maybe the emptiness is good
without the witchcraft and darkness lurking
without anything particularly interesting
maybe the nenufares
in the barrel
are better
than all that
deadly
luxury
and the ambitions of the dead.
But you mine, I think so, tak…
if we were in a paradise…
love and art
but there is a war on
soldier
you better move on
love
you better move on!
kiss and breath
flowers and guns
miss you too much
too much
amazing
this in love feeling is
too much
he said
and she smiled
You conquered
she said
climbing on him
on the bench
in the central park.
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