We did not exchange any objects
No totems
Or signs of love
However you call it
It was none
In the large structure of air above us
We have left marks of nothing
Now, we can breath
On the lines of telepathic connections
There are no pigeons to gossip
No women to soften this curse
In the large building of emptiness
There is space for loneliness
Secured and safe
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
Complete freedom is abandonment
orphans are free
free to kiss the tree
and sleep under it
on dirt
I am contemplating my new unexpected connection with the clouds
the stupid schizophrenic wife
thought that somebody has loved her
you deserve it deserve it what happened to you
you brought it all on yourself you stupid brat
she had empathy for a psychopath
she though he was like her
lost and abandoned in l.a
she thought he was a friend
a soul connection – he said
a vampire on the night bench
putting a hand under her skirt
in chilly autumn
but the night was exceptional
the moon perfectly shaped and staged
for the story which was about to unfold
she felt sorry for him
such a sweet lonely guy
just like her
foreigner in London
was he scheming already
how to lead her to crime?
who knows
what a stupid
schizophrenic bird-brained somebody’s wife
antiinsanityblog 